Late at night, a few scattered stars still flickered stubbornly in the sky. The vast firmament looked as though a stingy creator had gathered back all the precious constellations, leaving only a handful of dim, forgotten lights behind.
The wasteland below was drowned in blackness. In the distance, the lights of the city glowed bright and mesmerizing — like a glass citadel standing alone in the barren plains. From afar, it was impossible to make out the outlines of its skyscrapers; everything was washed over in neon, dazzling like a pearl in an oyster. People only saw its brilliance and allure, never the cracks that spoiled its perfection.
Under the city's glow, the wasteland showed faint shades of reddish sand. Here and there, small fires smoldered, and the air carried a sharp, choking scent.
When Lin Mo realized where he was, his head felt unbearably heavy — as if filled with molten lead. His mind blurred; at any moment, he could have slipped back into unconsciousness.
Finally, with no strength left, he fell backward, lying flat on the ground, his vacant eyes staring up at the night sky.
The heavens were unusually dark. The moon was nowhere to be seen — but perhaps because its light was absent, the few scattered stars shone a little brighter.
Then, as if the heavens themselves grew tired of such monotony, another star appeared — blazing red like fire, glowing with the ominous hue of fresh blood.
Even though Lin Mo's body was paralyzed and his consciousness clouded, he could still feel the faint tremor of unease blooming in his chest.
The crimson star grew larger and larger. Its radiance soon drowned out the light of all others, until it became the only brilliance in the sky — outshining even the moon.
It drew closer.
Lin Mo squinted, forcing his eyes open, trying to see what it really was.
But in the final instant before it fell, all he saw was an enormous ball of flame descending like divine wrath upon the land beneath him.
The fire struck. The ground split open. The deafening explosion that followed was the very sound of death. For the first time, the light over the wasteland blazed brighter than the city — like a moth meeting the candle flame, its self-immolation burning fiercer than the light itself.
Lin Mo opened his eyes groggily. The first thing he saw was a ceiling awash in neon light.
Colored beams spun chaotically across the room. From nearby came loud music — and a voice singing so horribly it sounded like a dying pig. Whoever it was, they were using "karaoke" as an excuse for murder.
"Damn, that's awful," he muttered.
The noise jolted him fully awake. Lin Mo sat up sharply on the sofa, startled to find a blanket covering him.
"You're awake? Relax, the surgery was a success — you're a girl now."
A boy's teasing voice spoke beside him, full of smug amusement.
Without thinking, without even looking, Lin Mo threw a punch toward the sound.
"OW! My face!"
David toppled backward, clutching his cheek, completely unprepared for the sudden sucker punch.
"When I was drunk, you messed with me too. But when it's you, suddenly it's not funny?" he groaned.
"Because I'm the boss," Lin Mo replied calmly, finally turning his head to see David sitting on the floor. Then he realized something was off.
"How long was I out?"
"Not long. Half an hour, maybe. You passed out halfway through drinking with Rebecca and Falco. Honestly, Lin Mo, you're pathetic — a few shots and you're done."
"I'll give you thirty seconds to rephrase that, or you're not getting paid this month," Lin Mo said flatly, rubbing his temples.
"Uh… right, what I meant was, Falco and Rebecca cheated. The bottles looked the same, but yours had strong liquor and theirs had weak beer. Really shameful, if you ask me."
David sighed dramatically, his tone dripping with indignation, like a brother defending his own. His quick backpedal almost made Lin Mo laugh.
"Where'd you learn to switch faces that fast?" he snorted, glancing at the time.
— 21:50.
David's reminder brought the memories flooding back. He'd been chatting with Maine out on the balcony when Falco invited him to join them for a drink. When he got there, it turned out to be a one-versus-two ambush — Falco and Rebecca tag-teaming him until he blacked out.
His body's nanite repair systems could neutralize allergies and small toxins, but not drunkenness. That debuff still hit hard.
Still, on a night like this, getting drunk once wasn't the worst thing in the world.
Sitting back, Lin Mo found his thoughts drifting to the strange dream he'd just had.
…A dark night. A city of lights. And a crimson star falling from the heavens.
Fragments flickered through his mind, but they were hazy, like memories covered in dust.
Weird. Why dream something like that?
He tried to hold onto the details, but the more he focused, the more they slipped away — like sand sifting through his fingers.
Dreams were always elusive, impossible to pin down. Already, the memory of it was fading.
He sighed. It wasn't surprising — unless a dream left a deep impression, no one ever remembered it clearly.
"Lin Mo, are you awake?"
A gentle voice came from beside him. He didn't need to look to know who it belonged to — that soft, catlike tone was unmistakable.
Sure enough, Sasha approached in her pink-and-white dress, carrying a cup of sobering tea. She handed it to him tenderly.
Lin Mo said nothing, just took it and drank it down in one gulp. Whether placebo or not, his head did feel clearer.
"Thanks, Sasha," he said with a faint smile, handing the empty cup back.
"You're welcome."
She watched him quietly. His cheeks were still flushed from the alcohol; the usual sharp edge of his expression had softened, leaving him looking almost fragile.
Sasha giggled softly. "Would you like another cup?"
"No, I'm fine now."
"You really shouldn't overdo it next time," she said kindly. "When you suddenly dropped face-first onto the table, Rebecca screamed. She thought you were dead."
"Oh? Then I owe her my thanks for sparing my life," Lin Mo joked.
"She does care about you, you know," Sasha replied. "All of us do. Once everyone realized you were just drunk, they went back to enjoying themselves. I was going to take care of you myself, but Rebecca insisted since you were out cold, I should leave it to David."
David cleared his throat meaningfully nearby, trying to draw attention to his "service."
Sasha's smile didn't waver. "You should rest a bit longer. If Rebecca sees you awake, she'll drag you right back to drinking — and you're not the type to say no, are you?"
"Probably not," Lin Mo admitted.
"Then stay here. I'll tell her you're resting."
"Thanks," he said, genuinely moved.
Sasha's smile deepened. After chatting a little longer, she left quietly.
Lin Mo stretched out on the sofa again. If he got up now, Rebecca would never let him go. Better to lie low. He'd stay here for the night anyway.
The second floor was spacious; even with only a few resting rooms, everyone could crash there if they wanted.
The music was still loud — trying to sleep through it was pointless.
Lin Mo sighed and turned his head. David was still sitting on another couch, nibbling a piece of cake he'd somehow found.
"Still not full?" Lin Mo asked helplessly.
The feast had been massive — there was plenty left even after everyone had eaten their fill. He didn't mind if people took food home; as long as it didn't go to waste, it was fine. But there was still plenty left. It made a perfect late-night snack.
"With stuff this good, how can you stop eating? That'd be disrespectful," David mumbled between bites, oblivious to the cream smeared on his cheek. "It's already ten o'clock — this is just a midnight snack."
"Suit yourself. Oh, and who's singing in the KTV right now?"
David glanced across the floor, narrating like a news reporter.
"Jack's on the mic. Maine's trying to snatch it from him. Pilar's dancing to the beat — if you can call that dancing — and Dorio's picking songs."
Lin Mo sighed wordlessly. He didn't expect much musical talent from Maine or Jack — both built like tanks. If they weren't holding the mic upside down, it was already a win. Calling them "tone-deaf" was being generous.
Still, singing was part of human nature. Even the shy wanted to perform sometimes. The mistake was putting a KTV booth in the lounge. Of course those two loudmouths would fight over it.
"What about the others?" Lin Mo asked lazily, not bothering to get up.
David, unaware he was being used as a scout, kept reporting dutifully:
"Sasha's reading in the rest room. Rebecca and Falco are still drinking at the bar — Kiwi's there too. Hao's behind the counter practicing his cocktail tricks…"
Lin Mo nodded thoughtfully. "And Gloria? Still downstairs with the staff?"
He'd told her earlier, "You're tonight's star," and he'd meant it. While they partied upstairs, she was hosting the employee dinner below — it was her night too.
David nodded. "No, that ended a while ago. But since we're edgerunners, she probably thought it best not to join us. She's still on the first floor handling things."
He paused, frowning slightly. "Though it's weird — my mom actually knows Maine. I have no idea how."
Of course you don't, Lin Mo thought.
"And Lucy?"
"No idea." David shook his head. "But after you passed out, she came to check on you. I remember her smiling… kinda deviously."
Lin Mo froze. A bad feeling crept up his spine.
He opened his contact list, found Lucy's name, and was about to ping her — but a few unread messages stopped him cold.
When he opened the chat, several new photos filled the screen — all of him, fast asleep like a baby.
At the bottom, a short caption:
[Lucy: Tsk, tsk.]
"That damn woman's using my sleeping face as blackmail…" he muttered.
As a netrunner, Lucy's cyberoptics obviously had scanning and imaging functions. A casual glance could easily double as a photo capture.
He typed back:
[Where are you?]
[Lucy: Outside the office building, on the riverside bench. It's too noisy with Maine and the others. I needed some air.]
[Lucy: How's the booze, boss? You looked so peaceful while you were sleeping.]
[That's a violation of my privacy rights.]
[Lucy: Oh? And who was it that secretly recorded my voice, hmm?]
[…Never mind. Enjoy the breeze.]
Lin Mo's lip twitched. He shut the chat with a sigh. So she holds grudges now, huh?
"If you don't need me, I'm gonna hit the arcades. The old bug's waiting for a match," David announced.
Since Pilar was off "dancing," he'd found a new opponent.
"What game? The two-player fighter?" Lin Mo asked. He remembered buying several arcade machines.
"I think it's called 'Run, Radish, Run' — some horse-racing game. We're seeing who can run farther," David said, thinking aloud.
Lin Mo waved him off. "Go ahead. You don't need to babysit me."
David nodded and ran off to the arcade zone.
Alone, Lin Mo realized he didn't have much to do.
He reached into the glass cabinet beside him and pulled out the braindance simulator.
He didn't mind starting the next day's simulation now — it looked identical to a standard BD headset, anyway. Even if someone saw him, they'd just think he was watching a braindance.
He slipped the headband on and activated the simulation.
As time passed and the text logs began to scroll, his relaxed expression slowly stiffened… then turned to shock.
By the end, his brow was furrowed deep, his face dark with fury — a rage unlike anything he had ever shown before.
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