Neon lights flowed like blood through the skyscrapers of New Tokyo in 2077. Ye Wuzhou stood on the rooftop helipad of the Night Owl Escort Agency, a holographic mission brief flickering across the retina of his cybernetic eye: a client wanted to transfer the consciousness data of their deceased daughter from a private server to Starloop Corporation's immortality cloud. The fee would be enough to pay off the loan on his right-arm prosthesis, the mechanical limb equipped with an electromagnetic launcher that now trembled faintly with each neural signal.
