《Anarcho: A Cyberpunk Fantasy》Chapter Nine—Rendezvous
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Chapter Nine—Rendezvous
The hall turned, leading down another corridor of polished hardwoods, pristine walls and priceless artifacts that lay at rest in high quality mood lighting.
The hall lead to another room, a large entertainment area with sofas of near-extinct animals and a massive hearth. Who needed a hearth in a high penthouse apartment?
Kyle wasn’t jealous. No. He was never jealous of the overlords. He was upset. They lived in opulence off the backs of the oppressed. All their technology that was said to give the people greater security and convenience only ever hampered their everyday freedoms. Men like Ben Yates even wanted to take away real meat now.
Meat, for the gods’ sake!
And then feed people artificial, printer meat that was so toxic people died. Of course, the overlords never paid for their crimes. They always got away with it, and if things got really bad, suitable fall guys were chosen.
Not tonight.
Kyle was going to find Ben Yates, and he was going to show the bastard a slab of his mind, and then he was going zing a bullet through his fuckin’ head.
The entertainment quarters were empty, except for the sound of the holo-net playing, some sports game involving nude contestants eating horrid things that starving dogs wouldn’t even touch.
Kyle went into the kitchens, found a guard sitting there reading the paper. He put a bullet through his head and walked away.
Where is he?
Where was Yates?
Kyle paused, looked at his wristlet. The 3D schematic showed that if he followed these halls, he would make his way to the bedroom areas. On the diagram John’s red dot pulsed, moving slowly along in the same general direction. Kyle touched the spot in front of the bedroom, putting a green waypoint down.
John would meet him there.
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Kyle walked slowly, making sure not to make any sounds that might alert the guards. If he made some noise that wasn’t too out of the ordinary, he would be fine—they would thing he was one of them and could still get the drop on them.
The bedroom was down here. It connected to a long junction hall that opened up on both sides leading to various entertainment rooms and a spacious dining area that seated eighteen people. If Kyle turned the corner, the bedroom entry would be about thirty feet down the hall.
He looked at his wristlet, saw that John was also at the corner. Good. They were both in place. Either he would reveal himself and take out the guards and Kyle would assist, or it would happen the other way around.
If there were no guards, then Ben Yates probably wasn’t in the bedroom. But where else could he be? This penthouse was large. Maybe he had a trophy room or a private art level. Maybe he was in his car garage or in the swimming room. He could be in any one of a dozen different areas.
Most of the overlords were out enjoying life, or making money, or finding new ways to oppress their surfs and everyone else. Surely he had a business room, a place he held vid conferences or something?
We’ll just search the whole damn place until we find him.
But John would want to search the bedroom for a safe. And of course, they would scribble their mottos on the walls—probably above the bed.
Kyle smirked.
They would be on the nightly news twice tonight, brazen as ever. Half the damn city was in terror of them and the other damn half was so inanely out of their minds that they found the antics of Max and Staxx greatly entertaining.
Well shit, he thought. I never wanted to be a reality holo-net star.
Then he turned the corner.
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Supreme Grandpa
After he crossed over, Yang Song thought that his life was a bit regretful.He thought that after crossing over, with this system, he would soar into the heaven and enjoy the glory. But alas, even after so many years, there was no sign of activation at all.This year, he was almost 100 years old.Yang Song sighed gently, «It looks like I have no fate with this system in this life.»[Ding, congratulations to the host for successfully activating the Immortal Cultivation System.]Hearing this prompt, Yang Song jumped up with a high spirit.One year later, Yang Song couldn’t help but sigh, «Life’s really hard.» He was already over 100 years old but still had to cultivate immortality.
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