BLOODBATH IN RETOX

Thunder roars. The Coca-Cola sign clings to life with desperate flickers that fight to push through the storm. Neon bathes Shintarou's room in a mix of moody blues and passionate reds. Water creaks out of the ceiling and into the various pots and pans, splashing his face in tiny droplets as he lay in his bed, looking deeply into the SID. Wiping the water from his face, he pulls himself off the bed and punches open the battered drawer, tossing the SID inside and pulling out his Musashi. He weighs it, caresses the smooth steel, and stares within for an answer to aid him in the oncoming bloodbath. The pistol answers him the same as before, getting him pumped for the long night ahead.

"Quick and nasty."

Shintarou heads to the bathroom, looking up at a rough face patched with scruff. He slathers himself with a handful of shaving cream, lifts up the razor on the sink, and shaves it away, looking up to someone years younger than he is, rubbing his clean shave with a sense of confidence for the hours to come.

He throws on a beat-up dress shirt, and moves to the closet, opening it and revealing an old STAT vest riddled with scrapes and bullet holes. A memoir of the past, Shintarou's big break taking on higher profile hits. Street-Razors have to start somewhere, and this is it for him, killing for the police. It was fun for a time. Made his day. All until he grew a conscience. Then it wasn't fun anymore, as your hits became witnesses to entire investigations or leaders of protests against the authority. That's when he drew the line. Just thinking about it makes his blood boil. But he needs the armor–its protection, so he throws it over his shirt, pats it down, and stuffs it with clips to his Musashi.

He ties on his bandana, pulls the flap over, and makes sure the peace symbol is straight across his forehead. Throwing on his coat, he tucks away the musashi in one of the pockets, pulling on a utility belt of throwing knives shaved to look like Egyptian ankhs. Runs his fingers across to make sure they're sturdy, before pulling the starter fob to his motorcycle.

—------------------—---------------------------------

Rain is coming down hard.

Shintarou revs his bike all the way to Tong Street in Pengsha, the place shooting up like an indescribable network of industrial havoc. Every alley, every corner, is consumed with pipes and rickety buildings, spitting steam onto the trash-riddled streets. Traffic loaded from here to Vietnamtown to God knows where else, glistening the moist in deep red against the clash of club neon in vibrant gold. The air is thick, like all the grime from the world has come up and violated your senses, overcoming the piece of you that has sanity left to dwell. Then he comes to the place he's supposed to meet Isamu, weaving past the traffic into a lot of gutter trash and other low-end Street-Razors packed inside a place called THE RETOX. A toxic green light seeps through the bullet-torn door, shining ominously through the cracks of smashed drywall and eroded planks. The sign itself hangs by a thread, threatening to squash someone one of these days as a cruel joke to its legacy.

Shintarou parks the bike next to a rack of others, slinging the fob into his pocket, waiting for Isamu to show in grand. He arrives shortly after from down the street, his shoulders low as he carries on with distress, wearing him like a coat.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it, man."

"You look disturbed."

"I just need a drink. And while we're at it, I'll fill you in on what we're gunning for."

The two make their way inside the bar, Shintarou keeping an eye over his shoulders for any of the patrons looking to try anything funny.

Hazel and Reznor park their van outside THE RETOX, loading their weapons before heading inside. This place gives them bad mojo, and it isn't about to end there. Reznor cocks the new shotgun he bought before coming here, staring at it like there's something heraldic about the way it's made. He always gets attached, it's his weakness. Hazel twirls the YangYang into her holster, cracking her knuckles. She spits outside the van and turns back to Reznor, sternly.

"This is it. No going back after this, so I need you at one hundred– two hundred percent." She zips her blue cropped jacket, lifts her leg over the steering wheel, and sheaths a knife at her ankle as she buckles down.

"Always. You don't have to worry about me." Reznor lowers the shotgun. "I just hope–" He squeezes the forearm to find the words, but he can't. "Nevermind."

"What's the matter?" Hazel pulls her leg off the wheel.

"Nothing just-- What if it isn't the same when I see her again?" Reznor sighs.

"It will be, she doesn't let go so easy. You know that."

"Yeah, I know that better than most people." Reznor leans back in his seat, daydreaming a few good moments from the past. The childhood he shared with Lillith. The shenanigans. All a giant ball of nostalgia he can't quite process the same way as he did when in those moments. But it all comes down to one thing. "I miss her. There isn't a day that goes by where I don't think about her. You know ever since she left I blamed myself."

"Rezzy," Hazel closes her eyes and shakes her head, "you can't let this fall entirely on your shoulders. Sure you two had your problems, but everyone does. All that matters now is that you're going to be there for her, again, like you always have."

A smile cuts along on his face. "Think she'll dig the new eyes?" His eyes light up.

"Yeah, you know what. I do. Now come on, let's get this going." She opens the door to the van, dropping into a puddle below, shaking off the water as she follows Reznor.

They make their way inside the bar to a grimy orange glow permeating the place like a twisted daydream after a bender of drugs and enough alcohol flushed in you you see blurs of faces, most ugly and twisted with nothing good behind neon eyes. Through them, they spot their table in the back, occupied by a couple of others. The closer they get they begin to recognize one.

"Vermillion?" Shintarou sighs. "Jesus."

"You hear they're pushing for that registration bill in China?" Isamu eyes him from the top of his mug.

"Who hasn't?"

"You'd be surprised at how much you don't hear nowadays. You could drop cyanide in my beer here and I'd still be none the wiser."

"Isn't the bill gonna reach here if it gets passed?"

"It might. Maybe sooner or later we're gonna have to look over our shoulders next time we steal a piece of candy."

"Or sneeze. One look at my record, I'm done. Off to the proverbial slum."

"You and me too, pal. You and me too." Isamu downs his entire beer in a single chug. "How much you wanna bet Vermillion's gonna put one of their boys in the president's seat this year?"

"Who says they haven't." From the corner of Shintarou's eye two others arrive. One with ratty hair and red eyes. The other a petite woman, clutching to herself as she gingerly takes a seat. He let's his hand slide to his musashi before Isamu punches his shoulder to get a better look at them.

"Parties here."

"Isamu, right? How is the arm?" Reznor asks.

"Patched up, wanna take a look?" Isamu crumples his sleeve, showing where the mark was laser fused together. "Cheap and Chinese. I love it."

"You seem friendly." Shintarou bobs his head for Isamu.

"Shin, meet-- What's your name again?"

"Reznor. This is Hazel."

"Gotcha. Shin, these are the two that got me in this gig. A couple of small players in a big pond, right guys?"

"Last I checked it was Reznor who saved your ass." Hazel butts in, defensively

"He sure did. Any of you care for a drink?"

"You buying?" Hazel asks.

"Nah, I just don't like to drink alone. My buddy here ain't exactly one for drinks before a job." He points to Shintarou.

"I ain't either." She gives him a cold stare.

"Ouch, tough crowd here. Keep on like this I'll have to introduce you to my ex. He's a real party pooper."

"She is right. You should slow down. There's no telling what might happen after we have this sit down." Reznor says.

"Buddy, if I'm not drunk when the shit hits the fan, it ain't worth my time." Isamu fingers for the waitress. A ripped sleeve-wearing Japanese girl whose entire face is a matte skull of cyber ware. "Besides. All I need is a few of the pills your boy gave me, and I'm square - steady as a brain surgeon."

Enzo watches the table from afar with a feeling of disdain for everyone gathered, taking a shot of tequila shaken with rum. The mix runs through him like fire, making his hands shake a little. As he settles back in, he feels several pounds of straight gutter trash stand over him, poking his shoulder in aggravation.

"You're in my seat, bro!" They yell, Enzo ignores them and pours another glass, this one to the top. "Hey, you fucking deaf, beaner?"

"Back away before I make you regret it, bro."

"Who do you think you are? A fucking tough guy--" Enzo splashes the drink in their eyes, bringing his arm around their head, and slamming them onto the counter. Their eyes water. Nose crooked and oozing with blood.

"Fuck! You broke my fucking nose!"

"Wanna see what my fucking hands do next? Back away before you really piss me off!" He yells, getting the attention of everyone in his nearest vicinity. The gutter trash takes a few steps back, bellowing a drunk grunt as he waltzes out.

"Anything else, sir?" The bartender asks. A schlubby balding old man as thin as a pair of sticks.

"Yeah, clean this place up before I do." Enzo slams the shot glass. A metal hand rests on his shoulders. He whips around.

"Back for round two–" He stops himself as he recognizes Kai and her boss standing beside her. He shrinks his attitude, quickly.

"Enzo Kong. A pleasure."

"Sure." He shrugs off Kai.

"Show some respect."

"At ease, Kai." Rico calms her. "Come along now, let's welcome ourselves."

"Bout time." Enzo twists out of his seat.

Shintarou squints to his right. Emerging from the mist of cigarette smoke, Rico appears, his assassin at his side. A maroon suit shimmering against the neon. The assassin clad in a checkered red suit strapped with clips to her Shashous. Another man lags behind, taller than the two of them, swaggering into a seat next to him.

Isamu gives the guy a look of familiarity as the rest of the table sits up with their own malfunctions of perturbation.

Enzo puts his finger down on the table. "Ain't you supposed to be rich? This place seems a bit below you."

"Would you have rather met at the Kirei? I heard it's always welcome to someone of your stature." Rico takes a seat at the far end, Kai standing over him, scanning their surroundings, her maroon eyes flashing as if running the place through an identification module, looking for anyone who stands out.

"All clear."

"Good. I had you all meet here because this gig is to be discreet. We show up at a place like the Kirei— Vermillion, Kitano, Mealworm, even fucking Chimera would be on our ass faster than you can say "shit." Besides, The RETOX isn't so bad. The cocktails I've heard are the talk of Pengsha, a real lure to the tourists in the area." He purses his lips for Kai. She pulls a cigarette out her front pocket, plops it in his mouth, and lights it with a pearl lighter.

Shintarou pulls a Marlboro from his coat.

"A cowboy killer." Rico remarks. "Classic. But Misty's have always been my brand of cancer." He takes a drag of his cigarette. Before Shintarou ignites his, Kai offers him her flame, a smirk as she does. He lets her light. She flips the lighter back into her pocket.

"So what's this plan exactly?" Hazel asks impatiently.

Rico chuckles dryly. "As you wish." He sets a blackjack at the center of the table, plugs a party jack at the center of the rectangular mass. Everyone pulls a cord, plugs it to their implants. Shintarou feels tingling down his spine as the wave of information floats about in his skull, uploading images of who and what they're after. Lilith Codyne. White hair, red eyes the color of blood. Isamu freezes as if he's seen a ghost. Shintarou raises his brow.

"You know her?"

Isamu shakes his head.

[Lilith Codyne. Daughter of the Codyne family. A bunch I'm very close to. We are to retrieve her from a Vermillion facility 2 miles underground, through a hidden passageway you can find sitting at the bottom of the Caldwell Stadium in Asylum. Through there we are to infiltrate the facility by any means necessary with extreme prejudice.]

[Caldwell... Isn't that where a sinkhole was said to have happened? The biggest one in history?] Reznor asks.

[Correct.]

[How the hell you expect us to get down there? Place is locked down tight last I checked, hombre. For safety reasons.] Enzo crosses his arms.

Rico looks towards Hazel. [She's our ticket in.]

[Me?]

[You're one of the best Divers this city has to offer. I think with the right hardware you can accomplish anything.]

She goes silent for a moment.

[Her? Really? Look at her, man. She's a fucking stiff.]

[Back off, man.] Reznor confronts Enzo.

[You want problems, bro?]

[Enough! Pay attention.] Kai intervenes.

[Just saying. How you expect someone like her to get the job done? I don't know about any of you, but I'm trying to get paid right. I don't want any fucking surprises.]

[Same could be said about you.] Hazel finally relays.

[Excuse me?]

[You know what I see looking at you? I see another soul wasted on all the ware you can get your hands on. For all I know NES is creeping into you right as we speak. With current symptoms of psychotic tendencies, irritability, restlessness - and most of all. A big fucking mouth where you can't just shut the fuck up and let things roll without hearing yourself speak.]

Reznor gives her a proud smirk. Enzo mutters an insult under his breath.

[What's the plan?] Shintarou continues.

Rico fastens his tie. [Team A is to head in via stealth helicopter while team B will stay behind and function as communications. Hazel, Kai, and I will function as team B. The rest of you are to gain access and locate the target - spring Lilith out of captivity and make sure no harm comes to her. Kai will be leading the operation once you all enter and scope your surroundings. From there I only have one rule. If one of you is to be flatlined during the process or the job goes haywire, you must still complete your mission. If all operatives are terminated we'll be forced to pull out and the job is finished. But given my confidence in all of you, I'm certain at least most of you will return alive.]

[We should go in when the big storm hits. That might jam their sensors, giving us a good opening to descend.]

[You strike a good point. One other thing.] Rico slides everyone what looks to be a data shard. Shintarou pinches his, examining the meticulous detail of neon encased in plastic. He recognizes what it is the moment he flips it over and reads Kitano's deltahedra label with the words SEEKER below it. Same used to track the violent criminals forced into the STAT ranks.

Rico explains this to the rest of the group, taking note of the vest beneath Shintarou's coat.

[You were one of them?]

[No.]

[Interesting. Where'd you get that vest from? Looks to be the same issue they used during The Burst Riots.]

[Sure.] Shintarou tries to end the conversation before it breaches any further. As he does the whole table stares him down, hard. All except for Isamu who continues sipping from his mug.

[I was one of the mercs they hired to suppress the riots. End of story.]

Rico doesn't buy it. Hazel grimaces at him with disgust.

[Now that we have everything out of the way. I want each of you to meet me at the coordinates in the shard. We will prepare ourselves before the storm.]

[We still haven't talked a price.] Enzo says.

[Each of you will receive around 30,000 cicies for the job.]

[Sweet. Now do we get this before or after we do the deed?]

[After–]

From the corner of the bar, six gangers roll up on them, covered neck to toe in tattoos, wearing beat-up street ware drenched in sweat. The lead one flashes a Nassha at the front of his pants - a single-handed slug shot with a barrel large enough to peek your eye through. Shintarou and Isamu collectively roll their eyes as they recognize their gang marks up close.

"Look what the cat dragged in…"

"Let's hear what they have to say."

10k Dragons, the thrill killers of Tong Street - rivals of the Qilin Kicks. The leader leans on the table as the others move forward. Isamu mocks one and they check him, swaggering up and thumping their chest, noticing the neon beneath his Hawaiian shirt.

"This fucking guy." He thumbs them.

"Ricardo Trang, Wang. Got a call about you being in town."

"Have I made your acquaintance?"

"Me? No. Your pal Long sent me. Says to keep you in check. Wants to cut you out of your deal, bro. Says he knows what you're doing is hazardous for health and to let the bigger player take over."

"Long… He's a big player now? Is that why he sent a couple of goons after me?"

"Guy's a cunt. A cunt with a lotta cicies. See you got another head here we could collect as a bonus."

Wang steers over to Enzo, who throws his arms behind his head. "Guess we're in the same boat, jefe."

"Game ain't in either of your favors."

"Sure." Rico flicks ash on Wang's shoe. Kai squeezes her katana, her hand sweating.

"Back off before I get angry!" Isamu growls at the ganger pacing over to Shintarou.

"You've been real quiet, Qilin boy. Got something to fucking say?" The ganger drives their fingers into his temple. He lowers his hand to the musashi.

Isamu pops up and shoves them.

"Nah, but I do, you little shit."

Hazel and Reznor eye each other for a moment as they slowly lift their weapons from under the table.

One of The Dragons reaches for their gun.

Kai doesn't give them a chance. With the pull of one arm, her blade shrieks through him, splattering her with blood. This startles the rest of them. Shintarou doesn't waste a second, blasting the guy mugging him in the abdomen, leaving Isamu open to deal a decapitation with the kodachi at his side.

The bar ruptures into a bunch of crazies, scattering to the front. The bartender ducks behind the counter for the X01 tucked behind a row of Jamesons.

The remaining Dragons are too slow to draw as Reznor and Hazel gun them without hesitation, sending the rest surrounding Wang spinning into pools of blood. Then Enzo leaps out of his seat, pinning him, their eyes bloodshot as he strangles the life out of them.

"Wait, Mr. Kong. I am not finished with him." Rico stands.

"You ain't. But I am. Adios, Wang."

Wang's mouth fills with blood as Enzo squeezes out whatever life he's still got in him.

Wang's mouth fills with blood as Enzo squeezes out whatever life he's got left. From the bar, the bartender aims his shotgun at him, shaking, waiting for a twitch to take the shot.

"Y'all better get the fuck out - now!"

"Let's all just relax. Everything's fine." Rico elevates his hands.

The bartenders eyes flicker in red neon, "STATs on their way, assholes!"

"Congratulations. You just gave me a better incentive to put you down."

"Excuse—"

"There's seven of us and one of you. Who's to say we shouldn't just dispose of you and walk out of here without hesitation?"

"You—"

Before he can utter a word, the front door to the place bursts open to another group of 10ks. Enzo releases Wang and cracks his neck at the big one in the center with huge metal fists. His head is shaved above a face plated with cyberware, tattoos smearing his entire body.

"Shit…" He says to Wang's corpse.

The bartender shifts the X01 back and forth.

The 10ks draw their guns and scatter as Shintarou presses his back against a support beam, followed by Isamu beside him. Hazel and Reznor flip the table for the rest to take cover.

The big one charges Enzo, tackling him into the bathroom. He blows through the door, his elbow smashing a sink and spraying water. The wall enfolds around him as he crashes.

Bullets whizz by, Kai's unloading her Shashous from behind the table. The bartender lands a shot, a gaping hole a smidge away from Reznor's head.

Shintarou chews the end of his cigarette, eyes the bottles around the bar, and blasts them. The bartender ducks, glass slicing his shielded arms as he's soaked in alcohol. Above he sees a lit cig fall on his position, igniting his surroundings into a huge ball of fire. Screams erupt as he rises from his spot, attempting to pat out the flames. Bullets tear through him. He stumbles off his feet, banging his head against the counter on the way down. Wood creaks as the roof crumbles to cinders, water sloshing forth.

Shintarou leaps for the edge of the bar as the support beam snaps. He can hear a light chuckle from Isamu who darts ahead, spraying a pair of YangYangs into a couple of gangers, leaping to their corpses for cover. Wood splinters on his position as they light him up.

Enzo's thrown into a stall. He nabs the toilet lid and smashes it over the big guy's head, leaving him dazed. With the piece of porcelain still left in his hand he drives it forward into their jugular, blood spewing all over his face. He raises his fists and pounds them until they hit the ground.

Reznor follows Shintarou as they lay down covering fire for Isamu, gunning a few Dragons in the process. The two remaining gangers flee to the far end of the bar, lowering their weapons as they drop to the ground. The group circles them. Rico steps out from behind Kai, clapping softly. He mumbles something under his breath for her to hear before confronting their attackers.

"Long really knows how to pick them."

"Fuck you, suit!"

Rico takes off his gloves to reveal a pair of knuckles embedded with impact steel. He punches The Dragon, teeth flying out of his mouth. The other one quivers slightly as the body makes a thump against the ground.

"How much is Long paying you?"

"No pay. Just Vermillion weapon shipments - where they are going. Some serious iron."

"Convenient. Mind sharing this with us?"

"He - he said he'd only break out the goods if you were flatlined. Wanted your head as a prize."

"Looks like I'm going to have to pay our mutual friend a visit." He bobs his head to Kai. "Take care of him."

She takes a step forward, and the ganger leaps off the ground.

"Wait! Wait–"

Kai decapitates him, his head rolling to Isamu's feet. He punts it away. Enzo stumbles out of the bathroom, dripping in blood with meat lodged in his fists. He walks to the group, and takes a look around at the destruction.

"We have a change of plans," Rico says.

"A change of plans?"

"I'm willing to double everyone's earnings if we pay Long a visit and obtain information on the weapon shipments he offered The Dragons."

"Why this even matter?"

"To get into this facility we will need firepower. If we do this, it'll save me a lot of funds and it'll rid us of that son of a bitch. He's got information on the job I do not want to get out. That puts a target on all of us. Now, let's make quick, STAT'll be here any second."