40
Burnt peanut oil and welding ozone hung heavy in the underground artisan district.
Slanted, cracked pavement made the walk toward the shop difficult. Caleb anchored his left hand to the canvas duffel strap, letting his bruised right arm hang stiff against his ribs. Half a step behind him, Kikaru's heavy carbon-fiber brace clicked a sharp, demanding rhythm against the concrete.
A glowing blue notification chimed on the cracked glass of Caleb's visor module.
[PUBLIC SPONSOR BID: G-CORP] [OFFER: 15,000 CREDITS FOR CHEST LOGO PLACEMENT]
Lifting a taped thumb to accept the contract, he watched the blue text vanish.
A heavy red stamp slammed across the glass.
[BID DECLINED BY PRIMARY STREAM-RIGHTS HOLDER]
