It was a quiet day at the shop, with only a couple people coming in for augments. One to enhance their vision. Another to resurface some memories. It was relatively easy, but it didn't pay as much. I definitely need more business to keep the lights on. 

There are other ways to make money that don’t involve aligning yourself with wannabe gangsters like Ludo. I’ve been doing it the right way for too long. Before last night, I didn’t think I would need to slum it in the underground to get by. I already work on the margins, performing out of warranty edits to catalog-augments done by the hacks at Delcor. It’s not illegal, but it’s not fully above-board either. 

After it’s clear I’m not getting any new customers, and I never do once night falls except for the one big exception last night, I take a walk around the block to work through everything in my head. The thing about this business is I have to set up shop in the seedier areas of town. Delcor would happily push me out of any territory they deem profitable enough.  

My shop is in one of the seediest areas. There’s a constant sulfur stench in the air and a grime that covers everything it can stick to. This isn’t a place you want to be wandering around at night. Part of surviving in these areas is knowing what’s around you at all times. Times like now. 

It doesn’t take me long in my walk to realize there’s someone following me. 

I keep my wits about me. There’s at least two of them. They’re not armed. If they were, they’d be a lot quicker about it. No need to stalk someone if you’re just going to take them out. Not like anyone in this neighborhood is going to say they saw anything. These are the types that will need me for a while. They’re waiting for me to make a mistake.

I don’t change my pace, continuing to stroll down the sidewalk. I don’t want to give them the sense that I’m onto them. I try to look at them through window reflections, but with all the grime it’s hard to get a good look. 

What I forget to do is keep my eyes ahead. 

In a flash, I find myself lying on the pavement. Three guys surround me. One I never saw coming. They’re good. The guy who is in my path, a man built like a dump truck and dressed in clothes purposely ripped in areas to show off his physique, is standing over me.

“Did you kill him?” Asks one of the smaller guys who was on my tail. “He’s no good if he’s dead.”

“I didn’t kill him,” I feel a sharp pain as the big guy jabs me with his toe. “He’s still breathing.” 

The third guy is feeling around for physical augments. He puts his hand behind my ear and I instinctively knock his hand away. I hate salvagers. 

“See?” The big guy says. “He’s fine.”

The small one sticks his knee in my back and gets right into my ear. 

“The less you move, the quicker this will be.”

“I don’t know what you’re looking for,” I try to reason with them, saving them some time so they’ll move onto the next sucker. “But I don’t have any augments. I’m clean.” 

“Who said we’re looking for augs?” He says, as he feels around in all the places augments would be installed: behind the ear, under the jaw, edge of your nostril and corner of the eye. “He’s clean.”

“Good,” the big guy says with a smirk across his face. “So no way this gets back to us.” 

He pulls out a knife and points the tip at my eye. 

“Organics are going for a higher market value right now.” 

I need just a second to make my move. The small one lifts his knee from my back, and before he’s able to get his footing back, I use all the force I can to get up. It throws him off balance, distracting his friend from my eye. I slap the knife away and start running. 

The big guy is much quicker than he should be, carrying around all that weight. I take my chances. He’s quick but he might not be as nimble. I criss-cross through the alleyways, the areas I avoided so I wouldn’t run into a situation like this tonight, in hopes of losing him. 

They try the same tactic as before, with the thin guy cutting me off, but it doesn’t work quite the same. I know it’s coming so I throw myself at him. We both go tumbling. 

The big guy grabs my leg and I stomp him with my other. His grip loosens enough for me to wiggle free, though he still has a good grip on my shoe. He can keep it. 

I round the corner, not looking back to see how close they are. I just keep running, even though my ribs are killing me from the beating I just took. The iron taste from my busted lip mixed with the salty taste of sweat tells me the adrenaline is definitely wearing off. 

I find an unlit area to hide. I tuck myself in a doorway and listen. The sounds of the city at night hum in the background until I hear them coming around the bend. I hold my breath, which feels like lighting a torch inside my rib cage. 

“This way,” the big guy says. 

Fortunately, it sounds like they’re not coming towards me. I give them more than a few minutes to go in the wrong direction before I move and allow myself to breathe. 

I hate this place. I need to leave.