The bridge connecting the main NEA headquarters to the Trade Center was a long, enclosed corridor of reinforced glass and brushed steel. Walking through it felt like crossing a border between two different worlds.
Behind Hide was the sterile, oppressive authority of the military structure. Ahead of him was the chaotic, undeniable pulse of raw capitalism.
He stepped off the bridge and onto the 15th floor of the Trade Center. The scale of it immediately made him pause.
The building didn't just go down; it sprawled upward for another ten floors, a massive cylindrical atrium opening up in the center so you could see the different levels stacked above and below. The air was thick with the hum of a thousand simultaneous conversations, the clinking of hard credits, and the sharp scent of raw mana and polished metal.
Hundreds of workers, mostly young women in crisp, dark blue uniforms, moved efficiently between Exterminators of every rank.
