Chapter 1: Victor

Somewhere in the Lower Wards, a man with dark hair and a loose jacket glanced around at the rundown apartments and dirty streets. His name was Victor, and the area he found himself in currently was particularly scummy even when counted among all the forgotten districts of Scion.

Victor stood near the entrance to a dingy alley. Flies circled around some garbage bags heaped up around a dumpster. Half the buildings were boarded up. Their windows were smashed and the doors tagged with graffiti. What a lovely neighborhood.

Leaning back against the wall, he watched the people coming and going on the street. He raised his wrist and spoke to the commlink strapped to it.

"I think I found the right place. The whole block is a dump. I'm getting tetanus just looking at it."

A grainy voice crackled and gave a reply. It was his friend, Sunny, who set him up with this job. "The client says you just need to knock on the dealer's door and ask for the datacard. Should be simple." 

"If it's that easy, why would he bother paying me to do it for him?"

"The guy is a corporate drone. He probably thinks stepping out of the Spires for a minute means he's risking his life."

Victor glanced up at the mirrored towers looming over the skyline in the distance. The sunlight glinted off their windows and made them look like pillars of light rising into the clouds.

"I still don't buy it. You know how expensive it is to live there? How's he got the cash to blow on dumb shit?"

"Fuck man, I don't know. You're the one that asked me to get you some work on short notice. If there's something sketchy about this place, the guy didn't mention it."

"That's not exactly reassuring."

"If you're so worried, why are you taking these shitty jobs anyway?"  Victor could hear Sunny's eyes rolling through the communicator.

The question made him pause and give a wry smile. "I can't afford to be picky right now."

"Then quit your complaining already. You could've been in and out already, but instead you're whining in my ear."

"Okay, fine. I'm going in. Tell him I'll message him when I have it."

"Got it."

Victor disconnected the line. Flicking his cigarette on the ground, he stamped it out with a foot. He lifted himself away from his spot on the wall and entered the alley. Another day, another paycheck. The sooner he could get this done, the sooner he could pay off his debt and go back to more profitable work.

He passed the stinking garbage and came around to the backside of an apartment complex. Several of the nearby buildings shared a garden back here, but now it was just being used as a dumping grounds. He spotted a used hypodermic needle among the refuse.

Victor approached a door with a black iron security grill. He pressed the buzzer on the side. An old-school CCTV camera swiveled to stare at him. After a few seconds, there was a click and he was let in just like that.

Inside the building, the walls were stained yellow and smelled like cigarette smoke. He passed by a couple of junkies laying on a futon. One of them was mumbling incoherently while the other was staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. Whatever they were tripping on, it knocked them on their ass to the point where they barely noticed his presence. 

Victor proceeded up a set of stairs and entered another corridor on the third floor. The carpet was ratty and stained, and the paint on the walls was chipped and cracked. At the end of the hall, he came to a door labeled 306. Victor gave the door a hard rap with his knuckles.

A tweaker with long disheveled hair opened the door a crack. He peeked out with shifty eyes surrounded by dark circles. This guy probably hadn't slept in a week. Apparently, this was the dealer he was supposed to pick up from.

"The fuck you want?"

"You the guy with the datacard?"

The dealer glanced him over suspiciously. He closed the door and Victor could hear the chain lock sliding undone on the other side. When he opened it again fully, Victor could see the guy was wearing a stained wife beater. He kept himself tucked halfway behind the doorframe.

"You the guy with the money?"

"Of course." Victor flashed him a creditchip. When the dealer went to grab the credits, Victor pulled his hand back out of his reach. "Hold up, show me the card first."

The guy narrowed his eyes, but he still reached for something out of view. A moment later he showed an unmarked datacard as expected. However, he didn't immediately hand it over.

"How much you got?"

"50k."

"I want 100,000."

Victor frowned. He could already feel a headache coming on and had a bad feeling about this guy's attitude. "That's not the price I was told."

"The price has changed."

Victor clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. It was tempting to bitch the guy out and go on a tirade about how breaking an agreed deal was a good way to lose all his customers. However, he didn't do that. There was no point arguing logic with a junkie. Instead he closed his eyes and calmed himself to curb his frustration.

"I don't have that much."

"Then get lost."

The dealer tried to slam the door shut, but Victor shoved his foot in the way. The door hit his boot and bounced back. The man was glaring at him. 

Alarm bells rang off in Victor's head. Something in his instincts screamed danger. He canceled his plan to force the door open and stepped back instead. It was a good thing he did too. The guy threw the door open and fully revealed himself from behind the frame for the first time, showing the kitchen knife in his hand.

"Yeah, you want some? That's what I thought."

"Hey man, calm down. I don't want any trouble, let's just keep the deal from earlier. 50k for the datacard like you said."

"You deaf? I said the price has changed. If you don't got 100, then fuck off."

Victor's heart raced. This was bad. The guy was getting more agitated, and a twitchy addict with a blade was not something he wanted to fuck around with. He tried to keep his cool and talk him down.

"Look, man, this isn't worth burning your reputation over."

"Don't you threaten me! Get outta my face or I'll slit you from your neck to your dick."

Victor backed away further. The guy didn't say anything more and just slammed the door. There was the sound of several locks being latched soon after. He was left standing in the hall, his heart pounding. That could have gone better.

He didn't get stabbed which was a plus, but he still needed to get that datacard. It wasn't a simple matter of passing up one job with his current situation. He needed money. Now.

Last month he borrowed money from Scorpion, a notorious loan shark down in Redlight Boulevard. One tough bastard wasn't such a big deal, but what made Scorpion different was that he wasn't alone. He rolled with the Reapers, a gang of lowlifes that controlled most of the area. They ran protection rackets and peddled drugs, prostitutes, and black market goods. The whole district was basically their playground and Victor had borrowed money from the worst of the worst.

Normally, he would avoid getting mixed up with the Reapers at all costs, but this time he didn't have a choice. Victor got diagnosed with a degenerative disease that was slowly turning him blind. On top of that, he'd frequently get splitting headaches that nearly made him pass out. In his line of work, if that happened at the wrong time, he'd be dead.

A cyberoptic augment was the only way to fix it. The technology could replace his damaged optic nerve and eye, as well as prevent the spread of the disease. Even getting the surgery done at a sketchy unlicensed clinic set him back a fortune, but there was no other choice. Drowning in debt to the Reapers was still better than going blind and dying in a ditch somewhere.

That's what he kept telling himself, anyway.

For that reason, Victor couldn't afford to cancel this job. He needed to see it through to completion or he wouldn't make his next payment to Scorpion.

He suddenly noticed movement in the periphery of his vision. Glancing in that direction, there was a little girl no older than seven or eight watching him. She stood in the doorway to another apartment on the floor. Her wide brown eyes stared at him unblinking.

Victor felt a bit of sympathy for her. Who knew what her parents were up to if she was left all alone in a dump like this. Maybe they were the two on the futon downstairs. But her appearance also gave him an idea.

He smiled and crouched down in front of her. The girl didn't seem intimidated, nor did she react at all really. She was eerily quiet and just continued staring at him. She seemed numb or even bored with her circumstances.

"Hi. Is there a window that opens in your unit?" 

The girl just nodded without saying anything.

"I'm gonna use it quick. Thanks."

She didn't seem to have any particular opinion about him entering her home. Not that it mattered. She was too young to care and not strong enough to stop him anyway.

Victor brushed past her and entered the apartment. Hers was the one two doors down from the dealer's and on the same side of the building. His plan was to climb out the window and shimmy along the edge until he reached the dealer's unit.

The apartment was a small studio unit, with the bed, couch, and kitchenette all occupying the same room. Dirty dishes stacked up in the sink until they threatened to topple over. In the corner of the room, the holoscreen was tuned to a kid's cartoon channel.

He didn't pay any more attention to the girl's living conditions and just went straight to the window on the far wall. When he tried to pry it open, he found it was locked. 

Victor raised his fingers to his temple and activated the enhanced vision of his new cyberoptic implant. The program was a simple heat map overlay that showed the data connections of nearby devices. Sure enough, the window had its own for the electronic lock. He connected to it and ran an override script. The window popped open a moment later.

Even though this augment was the reason for his current money problems, Victor had to admit that it came in handy. A simple script like this would only work on low security devices, but it was perfect for the Lower Wards where most places would be lucky if they had any network protections at all. 

As Victor climbed outside and prepared to start his dangerous journey, he glanced down and saw the girl watching him again. He paused for a second as he felt a tinge of guilt. 

"Hey, uh.. It was okay this time, but don't let strangers into your home anymore."

Again, she gave him the silent treatment, but after a few seconds she slowly nodded. He couldn't tell if she really understood or not. Good enough. He felt bad for her, but he didn't have the luxury to worry about every fucked up situation he came across.

Victor closed the window behind him and braced his feet on the narrow ledge. He clung onto the windowsill for dear life and slowly shimmied along the wall. His eyes darted between the windows, searching for the one that would be the dealer's. He was thankful the place wasn't a skyscraper and he was only on the third story.

One hand over the other, he slowly made his way toward the next window. The breeze tugged at his jacket and made him sway a little. He could hear hovercars zooming along the highway in the distance and people shouting a couple blocks over.

When he came to the dealer's window, Victor was able to peer inside thanks to the lack of curtains. The apartment was like the other he entered, but much dirtier. Instead of a bed there was just a box spring mattress without any sheets laying on the floor.

Victor didn't see the dealer. He was probably in bathroom. If the guy wasn't in the room, now was the best time to make his move. The same remote access trick with his augment let him open the window. It couldn't help him with the mechanical locks on the guy's door, but Victor bet the fucker never expected this. He slowly pushed the window open and slid the glass up.

After confirming that the coast was clear, Victor carefully pulled himself into the apartment. He glanced around the room scanning over everything quickly. Once again, his cyberoptic eye proved useful. Every electronic device was highlighted with the heatmap overlay.

He found what he was looking for on a coffee table in the center of the room. It was the same datacard he saw him hold up earlier. Next to it was an old-fashioned glass pipe, a lighter, and a plastic baggie full of crystal.

Victor scooped up the card and shoved it in his pocket. At that moment, he heard a toilet flush and the water running. The bathroom door opened. Both Victor and the tweaker froze for a second as they spotted one another. He still had his knife.

"What the fuck?!"

The guy rushed him as Victor cursed his luck. There's something wrong with this guy. Why the hell does he need a knife with him while he's taking a shit? 

He kicked over the table in the guy's path and leapt for the window. Victor jumped out and grabbed onto the ledge. His feet swung under him. He had only a moment to brace before the dealer reached the window and started slashing wildly at him.

"I'll kill you!"

With no other option, Victor jumped. He smashed through an air conditioner unit on the way down which halted him for a second, then dropped the remaining five meters and landed on a dumpster. His body crashed through the lid and into the garbage below.

It hurt, but it didn't injure him badly. He had the wind knocked out of him and had some nasty bruises. It was still preferable to fighting a lunatic with a knife. Victor quickly forced himself to stand up. His legs shook and his back felt stiff.

As he clambered out of the dumpster, he could see the tweaker peering out the window above. The man was screaming at him and throwing empty bottles and beer cans.

Victor stumbled away from the alley and back onto the street. His clothes reeked and he could feel a sharp pain in his ribs, but he'd live. He patted his pockets and confirmed that the datacard was still there and intact. 

Well, job completed. He hoped all this shit was worth whatever is on this thing, but he doubted it. On the upside, since he didn't need to pay for the card, that was like making an extra 50k. It was pure madness to risk your life for so little, but a bonus was a bonus. Now he just needed to make the trade with the client.