I idly flipped a coin across my knuckles, letting the metallic glint catch the light as I leaned back in my chair. The repetitive motion was almost calming-until Alex's voice broke the silence.
"You seem a bit gloomy," he remarked without looking up from his workstation, fingers still dancing across the keyboard.
"Yeah..." I muttered.
"Instead of finding answers, I just keep stumbling onto more questions." I let out a long sigh.
Alex chuckled. "Still thinking about yesterday? The stealth-camo assassin?"
"Yeah. That one," I replied, flicking the coin higher before catching it with a snap.
"I already checked," Alex said, his tone shifting into something more serious. "No civilian has access to that level of tech."
I shot him a look. "Wow, so helpful, Alex. Truly groundbreaking detective work." My voice dripped with sarcasm.
He smirked. "Jane, listen. That kind of equipment isn't just rare-it's dangerous. Which means chasing them down could be suicide, even for you. My advice? Mind your own business. Stick to your usual brand of criminal hunting."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Fine. But if they ever cross my path again, I swear I'll tear every single one of their asses apart."
Alex burst out laughing, slapping the desk. "Now that's more like it!"
I stood, pocketing the coin. "Anything else?"
"Well..." he grinned, sheepish but sly. "I may have... spent a lot of money building this almost-supercomputer. So I was thinking-maybe the sexy sugar mama could spare a little slice of yesterday's reward? I happen to know you're three hundred thousand credits richer, Jane."
I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips. "Fine. I'll transfer you a hundred K."
His grin stretched wider, victory flashing in his eyes.
I turned on my heel, calling out, "Harry." The AI companion responded with a confirming beep before following at my side.
---
Arriving home, I wasted no time peeling off my mini dress and collapsing onto the sofa, gloriously naked. No panties. No bra. I hadn't bothered with either in the first place.
Being bare had become something of a personal ritual lately. There was a certain indulgent freedom in it-the chance to admire the seamless contours of my body, a hyper realistic full cybernetic body that are both dangerous and beautiful.
With a thought, I connected my built-in interface to the Bounty Hunter server. My vision flickered as AR holographic posters of wanted criminals filled my cybernetic eye, each dossier flashing before me in perfect clarity.
I leaned back, scrolling through the rogues' gallery with nothing but a flicker of thought, waiting for the next worthy prey to appear.
One particular wanted poster flickered into view, and it immediately caught my eye.
Wanted: Dead or Alive
Name: Mosta Pasi
Crimes: Multiple counts of murder, armed robbery, large-scale scams, money laundering, and smuggling.
Bounty Reward: 100,000 credits.
Note: Leader of the Kaiko Group, a rising criminal syndicate. Though purely human, Pasi is heavily protected by a cadre of advanced androids, battle-ready cyborgs, and illegal modders-each as ruthless as the man they serve.
A slow smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "Let's take this one," I murmured, tapping the glowing Start Hunt sigil with nothing but a thought.
The Bounty Hunter system immediately pulsed a confirmation in my neural HUD: Hunt Accepted. Moments later, encrypted intel began to stream into my inbox, layer after layer of data weaving itself into my interface.
"Harry," I called, stretching as I stood, "let's go shopping for weapons. I bet Krohn has something interesting tucked away in his shop."
"Alright," Harry replied through a text message blink into my system, appearing at the corner of my view. The robotic hound's eyes flickered briefly as his systems synced with mine.
I dressed for the occasion-sliding into my sleek black armor mini dress, its polymer weave providing the barest whisper of protection. Over it, I threw on my purple KFA jacket, the sharp-cut fabric catching the neon light like silk mixed with steel. My sidearm slipped neatly into my handbag, and I snagged my car keys from the counter.
The dress wasn't much in the way of protection-more fashion statement than battlefield shield-but it made me look the part. And sometimes, appearance was as much a weapon as any firearm.
With Harry trotting at my heels, I stepped into the garage. My old car hummed to life with a reluctant growl, the dash lights flickering like dying stars. Harry climbed into the backseat, metal claws clicking faintly against the worn leather.
I slid behind the wheel, engine rumbling as the neon skyline of Neoz City faded in my rearview mirror. The outskirts awaited-darker, grittier, and far less forgiving. Somewhere beyond the smog and steel, Krohn's infamous weapon shop beckoned.
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