The dim lights of old neon broke through the haze of cigarette smoke. They illuminated a few tightly grouped together booths, each housing a couple of patrons. To the side was a bar with additional seating that was just as tightly packed. The sounds of abundant slurping were joined by the clattering of cutlery, laughter, and many concurrent conversations.
An old TV crackled off to the side, showing off a football game though no one was watching. This season hadn't been going well for the Corsairs, reminding everyone about how badly they missed the Nighthawks. It would seem that the old wound of their loss was still collectively shared, even to this date.
On the wall were photos from all the best brain dance stars from thirty years ago flanked by a flag of unified Korea and another for the Ukrainian Free Army. Both were supported by additional photos, baubles, and memories of a life that existed outside this city. Each memento was a figment of a world that was beyond the reach of the chrome junkies and solos who sat within.
Jose was one of these nobodies, a name on a ledger that history wouldn't remember.
He looked away from all this and instead shifted his attention down towards his phone, poking away at the screen. His client was running late, his text tinged with the anxiety of someone who really didn't want to have this meeting. Something which he was used to. After all, a fixer was used to not always working with the most... reputable of individuals.
He didn't mind, the ambiance was nice and he was enjoying it on their dime.
One of the waitresses came over, flashing a cheery smile and a half wave. She was pretty, younger than himself by about a decade. Her skin had a slightly olive hue to it and her eyes were a piercing blue, like sapphires. They could've only come from one of the biotech companies, being just one augment of many as her left hand had slender metallic fingers and her right foot audibly clicked as it came down upon the floor.
She was wearing an apron and tight jeans, looking fit for the part as she held up an electronic pad. A relic which helped sell that this place was old-fashioned.
``Your usual?'' she asked, reaching up and brushing a greenish bang out of her eyes.
Jose nodded. ``You know it, Anastasia.''
Anastasia nodded and jotted down a couple of things. ``Got some mochi straight from the port if you'd like. It's the preem shit, from Japan.''
``Eh, I really shouldn't splurge too much on the client's dime,'' Jose said, winking at her. ``Corpos got deep pockets but I'd rather not abuse them.''
``At least not until after the deal?'' Anastasia teased as she winked back at him. ``Right?''
Jose nodded. ``You know it, choom. Gives me more money to buy you more gifts with.''
Anastasia giggled, shaking her head. ``Nice try.''
``Can't blame an old man for trying,'' Jose replied, tilting his chin past her and towards the other server who moved around the establishment. ``How's Catherine doing?''
``Same old, same old. My sister is as hopelessly romantic as ever,'' Anastasia teased, shaking her head.
Catherine stopped at another booth, holding up her pad. She laughed at a joke that Jose couldn't make out. The girl was barely old enough to fill her apron but still old enough that a few of the patrons couldn't help but eye her up.
Unlike her sister, she was a bit more natural with the only artificial bits about her being a port on the side of her neck and a head of bubble gum pink hair. She looked much like her sister in terms of complexion and stature but with a more genuine smile that the world clearly hadn't taken away from her just yet.
Give it a couple more years.
``Well, you got to have something in this city,'' Jose said, leaning back in his seat. ``Only thing keeping me going is the hope to get my ass out of here one day.''
Anastasia scoffed. ``And go where?''
Jose shrugged and thrust a thumb into his chest, prodding the floral print of his Hawaiian shirt. ``Head out west and see what's left of my homeland.''
``Same shit better climate,'' Anastasia replied. ``Probably just as filled with corpo assholes who have more money than brains.'' She offered a thin smile as she looked him in the eye, her blue pupils flickering as she did so. ``Are you planning to take me with you?''
Jose chuckled. ``Hey, I'm always looking for company. Still, don't you think it's a little cliche for someone like me to promise you a trip around the world?''
``Only cliche if you can't back it up,'' Anastasia replied, shaking her head.
``Well... let's see how this meeting goes,'' Jose replied. He glanced towards the door, working his jaw. ``If things go nova, then maybe I can think about putting a little aside instead of just getting more chrome with it.''
``You do have plenty of chrome already,'' Anastasia teased, nodding towards his arm. ``New model?''
``Nah this one is two years old but it still works fine enough to get it second-hand,'' Jose said, rattling his metallic fingers against the equally metallic palm of his hand. ``Newer models are too flimsy anyways. Feels like you're going to break them because of all the plastic. Feels cheap.''
``I don't know if I could do it,'' Anastasia said, extending one of her slender arms and showing off the green nails of her natural hand. ``I think I like my flesh too much to go for a full arm.''
``Wouldn't recommend it unless you really had too,'' Jose said, shrugging.
He didn't feel like mentioning that the only reason he had to get borged out in the first was because of an unfortunate interaction between his prior limb and an armour-piercing round.
Before he could fixate on this, however, there was suddenly the sound of rapid fire Korean. It burst forth from the bowls of the kitchen with frantic energy. Anastasia tensed and looked over her shoulder, drawing Jose's attention along with it.
At the entrance to the kitchen was a pale elderly woman with her faded blonde hair locked away underneath a hairnet. A cigarette hung from her lips as she puffed upon it, glaring at the duo. She wore a long floral dress that looked as old as herself with a stained apron draped overtop. Her arms were exposed and showed a single wrinkled tattoo which matched the banner of the Ukrainian Free Army with its red and black still clear as day.
A memory as old as herself.
There was a cleaver in her hand which she tightened her grip around as she noticed that Jose was now looking directly at her.
Jose had been in shootouts, knife fights, and illegal boxing matches. Yet, nothing made the terror in his gut more pronounced than a glare from this woman. She was not to be trifled with by mere mortals such as himself.
Maybe, it was knowing that she could fuck with his food that did it for him.
``Need to get back to work?'' Jose asked, glancing up at Anastasia.
Anastasia nodded. ``Baba Park doesn't like to keep the customers waiting.'' She looked back at Jose and winked at him. ``I'll be back in a little while with your lemon sour.''
Jose nodded and waved her off, watching as she returned to the back of the house. With her departure, Baba Park offered one last sharp look in his direction. Once her granddaughter was gone, she merely nodded resolutely before slipping back into the kitchen as well.
It was good timing too as there was soon a jingle at the door.
Jose looked towards it and knew right away that the man who walked in was his client. This choom was the only corpo asshole for a mile around, wearing a fresh black suit and a scowl that only a man deathly afraid of the poor could achieve in a place like this.
Thankfully, it didn't seem that anyone minded someone of his stature coming in. His appearance only managed to sway a couple of people's attention. And even then, it was only for the briefest of moments as they soon returned to their own business.
Jose lifted his new hand, offering a polite wave and exactly one inviting nod as he garnered the gentleman's attention.
``Mr. Villa?'' the gentleman asked as he came over.
Jose smirked and motioned to a seat across from himself. ``Call me Jose, choom.''
The gentleman nodded and looked at the offered side of the booth, just awkwardly staring right at it. For a moment, it seemed that he'd bolt like a scared rabbit. Yet, he seemed to reserve himself to slumming it as he drew in a breath and reluctantly slid into the seat, shuddering as the cheap material settled against him.
``Are you Black?'' Jose asked.
Black nodded. ``One of my many aliases.'' He looked around the establishment. ``Interesting choice of venue. Seems...'' He worked his jaw, searching for the right word. ``Rustic.''
Jose scoffed. ``Rustic?''
``I'm trying to be polite,'' Black murmured.
Jose shook his head. ``Well, this isn't some five-star joint on your corpo waterfront but the food's good, the prices decent, and no one starts any fights here. So, it has everything that I need for my line of work.''
``No fights in this neighbourhood?'' Black asked, chuckling. ``I witnessed at least two homicides on the way here.''
``Neighbourhood is one thing but no one messes with Baba Park. The food's too good to risk getting banned,'' Jose said as he shrugged. ``Corpo, fixers, netrunners, edgerunner, Miltech, Arasaka... everyone comes here. This is some neutral ground; fork in the river where all of the tribes meet.''
He then slid a little QR-coded chit across the table. It claimed to be the menu. Black looked at it and then picked it up, holding it before his eye. His pupil momentarily pulsed as he placed the chit aside, pondering the menu.
``Interesting cuisine,'' Black commented, blowing a puff of air into his cheek.
``Fusion,'' Jose explained. ``Baba Park is a Ukrainian who married a Korean woman. So, you know the food's going to be pretty wild.''
Anastasia came back over, letting her focus linger upon Black for only a moment. She was clearly studying him. In the end, she decided to offer a more restrained version of her already conservative smile.
``What can I get for you today?'' she asked.
Black hummed. ``Strawberry soju with an order of the kimchi noodles. And a side of perogies if you would.''
``Man of taste,'' Jose teased.
Black cocked a brow.
``That's what Jose usually orders,'' Anastasia explained, winking at him as she jotted down the details. ``Anything else?''
Black shook his head.
Anastasia didn't say anything further as she promptly left, heading towards the back. Clearly, she didn't want to linger around any longer than was strictly necessary. Not that Jose could really blame her.
``So, what can a fixer like me do for you today?'' Jose asked as he focused his attention back upon his client.
Black worked his jaw and looked around, scanning the various patrons of the shop. None of them seemed interested in their conversation, ignoring them completely. Still, he seemed jumpy, ready to bolt at any second.
Jose was used to jumpy. After all, this man was probably worth a lot of money to the right people.
So, he reached for the side of his neck and pulled out a thin cord from his port, holding it out for Black. This seemed to put Black a little more at ease as he also reached out and extended his own cord, linking them together somewhere in the middle.
There was a sharp noise and both men winced as their firewalls shuddered at the invasion.
``We have a client coming in who has some peculiar tastes,'' Black said. His mouth didn't move but his words were as clear as day, bypassing eardrums and seeming to flow directly over top of Jose's grey matter like water over a riverbed.
Jose nodded and reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. ``How peculiar are we talking here?''
He placed one between his lips and lit it, inhaling.
``He likes some pretty niche brain dances and I was wondering if you knew any producers who might be able to help create some content for him,'' Black stated, looking at the pack of smokes and then producing his own. His were pricier, a preem-brand of clove cigarettes.
Anastasia made her way back over, placing a pair of glasses down upon the table with a small bottle of malt liquor next to Black's. The brand mascot was an inebriated bear wobbling as he drank from a similar-looking bottle. The text was completely Korean though there was a cartoon strawberry which revealed its flavour.
Black reached out and cracked open his bottle, using it to fill his glass. Once it was full, both men then held up their respective beverages to one another.
``To good health?'' Black asked as he placed his smouldering cigarette in a tray.
Jose scoffed, looking at the slice of cloned lemon as it bobbed in soda water. ``As good of health as anyone can have in this city, choom.''
They clinked glasses and each took a sip.
``Oh wow,'' Black said, sounding oddly amazed. ``That's good? Like really really good.''
Jose chuckled. ``They have that preem shit here.''
``It's pretty decent,'' Black replied, shaking his head as he focused back on the business at hand. ``But yeah, we asked around and a guy told a guy that you might know a guy who can create these specific dances for our client.''
Jose furrowed his brow. ``Does it involve kids?''
Black's eyes widened. ``Fuck no.'' He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. ``Jesus... no!''
That made Jose immediately relax, nodding as he took another sip of his drink. It was smooth, having only the barest hint of a citrusy burn. ``Then I might be able to help you. What kind of niche are we talking about here?''
Black looked off to the side, working his jaw. ``This is going to sound weird?''
``It usually is if people are desperate enough to come to me,'' Jose teased.
Black looked at him and went silent, working his jaw. It seemed that he was brushing against that final barrier of self-restraint that kept him away from what he wanted.
In the end, he sighed. ``Have you ever heard of the furry fandom?''
``Can't say that I have,'' Jose replied, cocking a brow. A search engine popped up within the corner of his eye, quickly shooting him everything that he needed to know from the new net. ``Says here it died out after the First Corporate War.''
``Dying but not dead,'' Black replied. ``It's kind of making a comeback in the form of exotics, if you've heard of those.''
Anastasia came back around and silently placed a pair of platters down upon the table. Each of them had six soft white dumplings with a small bowl of sour cream in the middle. She also produced a set of cutleries for each of them. These contained a napkin, fork, knife, and a pair of black plastic chopsticks.
She noticed the linked cables and didn't say anything, instead taking the chance to slip away. This wasn't her first rodeo.
Jose grabbed a fork and stabbed one of the perogies, dipping it into the sour cream and popping the whole thing into his mouth. It was as delectable as always, being the perfect mix of garlicy, creamy, and savoury.
Black was a bit more reserved, using his fork and knife to cut off a smaller bite-sized piece before popping it into his mouth. It only took a couple of seconds of chewing before his eyes lit up.
``What the fuck?'' he asked aloud, more to himself than Jose.
Jose chuckled and responded in kind. ``Right?''
``This is better than some of the stuff back in the tower,'' Black grumbled. ``How is a place this good, located somewhere like this?''
``Baba Park likes to take care of the community,'' Jose replied, nodding past him. ``Like I said, there's a reason this place is neutral ground. No one wants to fuck up and miss out on her food. Corpo or chromed-out junkie, everyone learns to respect the cooking.''
Black wiped at his lips with a napkin, washing his food down with some soju. ``Is that real sour cream too? I didn't think anything like that existed in this neighbourhood.''
Jose scoffed and elected not to reply to that comment. Instead, he focused his attention on the business at hand as he switched back to their private network, communicating via the relay. ``So, is this big wig one of these furry freaks?''
``Senior IT for a rival firm,'' Black replied. ``We're trying to poach the talent and get a leg up on the competition. So, we think that their expertise would be vital in that regard.''
``How vital?'' Jose asked.
Black shrugged. ``Very very. That's all you need to know.''
``So, what type of brain dance are they looking for?'' Jose asked, spearing another perogy and popping it into his mouth. One nice thing about being linked was getting to eat while having a conversation. ``Do they want someone fucked by an animal or fucking an animal or what? I'm not sure that I totally understand here.''
``I wish,'' Black grumbled. ``That'd be easy.''
Jose whistled. ``You're starting to freak me out here. What exactly gets this person's rocks off?''
Black was silent for a moment, popping another safe bite into his mouth. He looked around as if expecting someone to be hacking into their conversation at any moment. His eyes even pulsed and Jose could feel some sort of program coming through the cord and then washing over him. It might've been a firewall of some sort as it didn't trip any of his alarms.
In the end, it seemed to make his client feel more secure. Though even once he felt secure, he still leaned in as if he needed to whisper his very thoughts to Jose.
Jose obliged him, leaning in as well.
``This is going to sound weird,'' Black murmured.
Jose rolled his eyes. ``Just say it, choom.''
``Do you know any brain dance producers who could create content from the perspective of someone getting eaten?'' Black asked, actually blushing at that request.
``Like cannibalism?'' Jose asked as he drew back just enough to look him in the eye. ``Okay that is pretty...''
``Not cannibalism,'' Black quickly replied, cutting him off with a frantic waving of his hands. ``It?s distinctly not cannibalism. They want a video where they get swallowed whole and don't die.''
Jose looked up at Black, seeing that unrelenting colour in his cheeks. There was something strange about the way that he now avoided eye contact and the added manner by which he didn't want anyone to overhear.
Then something clicked. No one would be that ashamed of asking for something like this if it were actually just for a client.
This dude was the IT specialist.
Jose didn't let on, however, merely nodding. ``I could probably get you in contact with some people. There are a few producers that I know, who experiment with psychoactive substances and use them to alter a star's point of view in all sorts of interesting ways. They mostly use them to create ethical snuff brain dances but I'm sure they could help with what your client needs. Mind you, it's not preem shit but they should be able to scratch your client's weird little itch.''
``Ethical snuff?'' Black asked, scoffing.
``Hey you know what you corpos are like,'' Jose said, grinning. ``Slapping buzzwords over atrocities is what you pay whole departments for, right?''
Black snorted.
A moment's pause lingered between them, enough that the awkwardness of this conversation could be felt, heavy upon the air. It gave Black time to grow uneasy, once again.
Jose could feel that anxiety as if it were his own. It made his stomach tighten, killing his appetite.
``So, what would your rate be?'' Black quickly asked as his gaze darted around the room with his pupils whirling. It seemed that he was ready to bolt at any second if even so much as a single set of eyes had fallen upon them.
Yet, none had.
Jose smirked. ``Fifteen percent tax on the final product.''
``Five,'' Black shot back.
``Twelve,'' Jose offered.
``Eight,'' Black stated, nodding resolutely. ``Final offer.''
``Ten,'' Jose added, flashing a smile. ``Come on, meet me in the middle here.'' He then nodded to the food. ``And throw the food in too.''
Black sighed and extended his hand. ``Fine, ten plus food.''
Jose took it within his metallic appendage and shook.
It seemed like good timing too as Anastasia came back over with two generous bowls in her hand. She placed them down upon the table, showing off a savoury noodle dish that was a rich red in colour with little pieces of meat, vegetable, and kimchi contained within.
``How about you eat and I'll phone some of my people to see if they can help?'' Jose asked aloud.
Black stirred at actually being spoken too. Still, he nodded and reached for their adjoining cord, pulling them apart.
In a moment, the sounds of the room came back to Jose like a wave crashing against a beach. It was a little strange to have his mind to himself after sharing it for so long. Yet, he didn't mind in the slightest.
Before he made any calls, however, he grabbed his chopsticks and ferried a couple thick noodles into his mouth. They tasted good, flavoured with MSG and all sorts of interesting facsimiles to genuine spices. The kimchi was also hot and sour, just the way he liked it.
Black followed his lead. Just like with the appetizer, his eyes widened to the size of saucers. ``What the fuck?''
``Right?'' Jose teased.
He continued to eat as text chats popped up in the corner of his vision. One by one, he sent out a series of rapid-fire messages to some of the producers he thought might fit the bill. The scene wasn't too large, especially for something like this. So, he managed to get through them quickly enough.
``You know this isn't going to be a Kurosaki, right?'' Jose asked.
Black shrugged. ``I'm aware.'' He looked around the venue. ``You know... I'm honestly kind of surprised that no one is starting a fight.''
``I think you have some assumptions about this neighbourhood, choom,'' Jose teased, shaking his head. ``We're not a bunch of chromed out psychoses just waiting for an excuse to let loose and kill a guy.'' He offered a playful little smile. ``That's only a quarter of us.''
``Could be Pacifica,'' Black teased, leaning back into his seat. He seemed a little more at ease already. That was good. At ease clients were the best kind of clients.
Jose nodded. ``Could be.'' He slurped up another noisy noodle. ``So, at least give us a little bit of credit, why don't you?''
Wasn't there a saying about knocking on wood? It seemed like there was a saying about knocking on wood.
And Jose very clearly had no wood to knock on.
The window at the front of the shop immediately exploded inwards, sending shrapnel flying into the venue with dangerous velocity. A body fell through, crashing to the floor and skidding across the tile, spreading debris and blood as they smashed into a patron's barstool. This caused another person to tumble to the ground as well with several others getting peppered with glass.
It was a cacophony of noises, mingling together with an orgy of sudden violence.
Black yelped and reached for his belt, likely going for his gun. ``Neutral ground my ass.''
Jose merely lifted a hand, offering a knowing smile. It was enough to stop Black's frantic panic, at least for now.
A second figure stomped into the room, his artificial legs sounding heavy as they clopped down, crushing already shattered glass under steel heels. His figure was intimidating, managing to stir a couple of the prior patrons into fleeing through the hole in the glass.
``Dude time out!'' the first interloper yelped as he managed to cross a T with his hands.
The second one paused and surveyed the space. It took only a moment before his eyes widened. He then defensively held up his hand. ``Oh fuck!''
Baba Park ducked out from the back, lifting her cleaver. She pointed it at the second interloper and muttered something in Ukrainian before mimicking the gesture of slicing through her own neck. Likely, this would be the fate of this hapless individual if he didn't act quickly.
``I'm so sorry, Baba Park!'' the first interloper yelped. ``This isn't my fault.'' He then focused on the second interloper, flicking his wrist at him and focusing his fury on the figure who had tossed him through the glass. ``Choom, you're going to get us noodle-banned. Have you gone so cyberpsycho that you can't even think straight?''
The second interloper processed this for only a moment before storming past the first guy. He headed deeper into the restaurant and went for the cleaning closet. It would seem that this was a familiar destination to someone like him.
``I'm so sorry, Baba Park, I'll clean up this mess right away,'' he quickly said, flashing a nervous smile to the woman. ``It was an honest accident. I wouldn't have knocked this guy through the window if I knew it was your place, I promise.''
He threw open the door and several brooms fell out as he clumsily started to juggle them.
While he dealt with that, the first guy pulled himself off of the floor, wiping at his bloodied nose as he stood up. He didn't look in especially good shape but the terror in his eyes seemed to be aimed squarely at the elderly woman who was glaring daggers at him.
``I'm so sorry, Baba,'' he said, shaking his head. He held up his hands and took a step back, inching towards the exit. ``I know a window guy, he's a really good window guy. He'll have this place patched up by the end of the day. Hell, he'll even get you some of those good reinforced windows so that no one else gets thrown through them. It's just an honest mistake, I promise.'' He swallowed a lump in his throat. ``Please don't ban me. I really like your udon.''
``Please, Baba Park,'' the second one groaned, finally managing to liberate a broom from the collection. It looked comically small in his bulky hands. He then stumbled back towards the mess, promptly starting to sweep it into a pile. ``We'll have this mess cleaned up in no time. It was an honest mistake and it won't happen again, promise promise.''
``We were just messing,'' the first interloper tried, coughing up blood and adding to the mess on the floor. This only earned him a glare from the second interloper who tried to brush it into the growing pile of refuse.
Baba Park's gaze narrowed as she looked from one of them and towards the other. In the end, she simply scoffed and waved her hand, ducking back into the kitchen without further comment.
Black blinked as the situation finally defused. ``What the fuck?''
``Like I said,'' Jose said as he purposefully plucked a shard of glass out of his food. He then grabbed a bundle of noodles with his chopstick, inspecting them to make sure there was nothing glimmering amongst them. ``This place is neutral ground. No one wants to fuck with Baba Park.''
``I...'' Black shook his head. ``What... what just happened?''
Jose shrugged. Before he could answer, his eye lit up, prompting him with a message from one of his brain dance producers. ``Oh, hey, would you look at that? I found someone to help out with that little commission that you wanted!''
``Already?'' Black asked.
Jose nodded and offered his port. ``I'll send you their info now.''
Black looked at it and then extended his own, linking them together once more. In a matter of moments, web addresses and bank accounts were being brought together as money and ideas exchanged several hands in quick succession.
When all was said and done, that ten percent would get him more than just a little chrome.
