I walked aimlessly, just wandering the streets. Every passerby tried to keep their distance from me either they feared the police or each of them had something dark on their conscience. More than once, my new interface highlighted a person's past crimes right before my eyes. It was as if I knew their entire life story the moment I accessed additional data from police databases.
My new module effortlessly detected a person's implants, displaying their full structure. Almost everyone had at least one illegal module no serial number, no registered installation. I wondered how that was possible. As I dug into the data, I realized that black markets were thriving, and people hadn't changed much. Where there's law, there's always opposition.
Where do black market implants come from? The answer shocked me. At first, I thought gangs simply robbed implant shops and resold the goods. But things turned out to be far worse when I learned about the Scavengers.
Their list of crimes didn't even fit within my memory storage. They were too numerous, too brutal. Human trafficking, organ and implant harvesting, robbery, assault, murder their crimes only kept growing. I couldn't understand how the city's government allowed this to happen. Why weren't the military wiping them out at the root?
To my disappointment, I realized: this was a free city. And these were the consequences of that freedom. A bright neon sign reading "City of Dreams" flickered on the side of a skyscraper. More like a city of the dead, judging by the death statistics. And that was without counting the five percent of people unaccounted for most likely the ones they never found or couldn't determine whether they were alive or dead.
I never thought I'd see a future like this. I once believed the world would become better, that people would grow wiser. But watching some junkie shoot up right on the street, trembling probably from the high I knew that was far from the truth. Everything around me felt familiar. Some part of my memory was trying to break through the fog, flashing fragments of recognizable images. I felt like I had seen all of this before. Familiar names flickered here and there, like ghosts from the past.
Right now, I just wanted to get back to my apartment and process everything, despite the chaos around me. I needed to disable the facial recognition module it was overwhelming, seeing all of humanity's vices laid bare. The implants tab showed that all my modules were active, but I only had to think about shutting them off, and I did just that with this one.
Everything instantly became easier no more constant stream of information in front of my eyes. Maybe there was a setting to make the scans work only on demand? A ripperdoc could probably fix that, but she already disliked me. The others eyed me with caution, but not with hatred. She, however, held strong negative emotions, evident in her every movement and expression. Something about her face unsettled me her expressions were mostly one-sided. Strange. Maybe paralysis? I didn't know. No point guessing. I'd ask Mike hopefully, he'd tell me.
Incoming Call: Henry Baker. Accept/Decline.
Ah, my doctor. Answering the call, I saw his face on the screen.
"Matthew, I'm calling to check on your condition. Are you alright? I got word that you were caught in the crossfire between the police and a gang," Henry said.
"My body took some damage, but the ripper fixed everything," I replied.
"Good. Have you noticed anything… strange?" he asked.
"No, nothing like that," I said, keeping silent about the malfunction and the turmoil inside me. The more I searched the net, the more I found mentions of this company. They took whatever they wanted and didn't care about anyone's opinion.
"Great. Don't forget your scheduled check-up this week. I'm glad you're doing well, but I can't talk for long work's calling," Henry said.
"I understand. See you," I replied.
"See you," he said before hanging up.
Lost in thought, I barely noticed when I reached the building where I'd be spending the night. It wasn't very big only ten floors. Odd. Even in my time, they built at least twenty.
Stepping inside, I found the corridor in complete disarray, the walls covered in graffiti.
I only had an apartment number no directions, nothing. I'd have to check every floor until I found it. Maybe there was an information board or something? Unfortunately, all I found was a smashed screen. Probably once a directory, now just junk.
After searching the first floor with no success, I cursed whoever designed this place. They deserved to have their hands ripped off. Each door had a display showing the apartment number, but some were so dim I could barely read them.
There was no logic to the numbering it was like someone had scattered them at random.
I had no choice but to check every floor. My biggest problem turned out to be the malfunctioning elevator. At one point, it stalled for a full twenty minutes. No matter what I did, it wouldn't move. I was about to tear the damn doors open, but as if sensing danger, the elevator suddenly started working again.
At least there were stairs. I used them for the rest of the way.
Reaching the fifth floor, I heard shouting. A man's voice, loud and filled with curses.
Finally stepping into view, I spotted the source of the noise two freaks standing by a door, arms crossed. They noticed me immediately. And they looked terrified.
"Shit, Rex, that bitch called the cops," one of them muttered. They weren't armed.
I mentally activated my facial recognition module.
Name: Richard Pinkens (Alias: Rich)
Age: 25
Employment: None
Criminal Record: Minor hooliganism, robbery
Marital Status: Single
Recommendation: Detain if suspicious behavior is observed.
A second set of data popped up on my screen, identifying the man who had been swearing loudly. He had a short haircut, a few metallic lines across his face, and chrome-plated fingers.
Name: Keith (Alias: Kit)
Age: 29
Employment: None
Criminal Record: Minor hooliganism, robbery
Marital Status: Single
Recommendation: Detain if suspicious behavior is observed.
That was all the module could dig up on the second guy who, judging by his size, had no sense of moderation when it came to food.
"Shit, how many are there?" a voice called from inside.
"Just one. That dumb tin can," Rich sneered.
"Is he packing heat?" the voice asked again.
Their behavior struck me as odd. They didn't seem like serious gangsters more like low-level street thugs.
"Nah, completely unarmed," Rich replied.
"Then tear him apart for scraps," the voice ordered.
"Got it, boss!" they shouted in unison, rolling up their sleeves as they marched toward me.
Strange. Do they even have functioning brains? Even if I were unarmed which I might not be, considering I could have a weapon strapped to my back I was still far stronger than them. A quick scan showed that their implants were minimal and inefficient. Why weren't they afraid of the police? In fact, why were they so eager to pick a fight? The people in this city had a bizarre way of thinking. Either the law here was a joke, or they simply didn't care.
I wasn't about to stand around waiting. Since they attacked first, I had no reason to hold back.
With firm, deliberate steps, I closed the distance. Without saying a word, I struck Rich with a single blow. His teeth flew out in a bloody spray as he collapsed like a ragdoll. The hit had landed hard at least my mechanical upgrades had some advantages.
Kit froze, staring at his unconscious partner in shock. Then he followed right after him, knocked out with the exact same result.
I should look up how much it costs to fully replace a jaw. Just out of curiosity.