I left Stealth Lights and the bottle of Pirate’s Eye to Jix. He’d sort that out, indefinitely. Me, now, I had to get to Admiral Street, where the VIC lay.

This is turning out to be some bullshit. I pondered as I made my way through the city. It took me fifteen minutes to reach Admiral Street; not legally of course, but it’d been a while since I last put the Xen through the motions, and now was the best of times to do so. Usually, I’d take a cab around the city, but today I needed her to be the girl on my arm, to get me through doors.

As I parked on top of the sidewalk, as legally possible as I could. I got out and felt a pair of scowling eyes pierce my soul immediately. “Can’t park deh!” A local resident shouted, clapping his hands together.

I flashed my badge at the balding man, which made him chuckle instantly. “EXiCONS ain’t police! That badge don’t mean shit’ round here” He drawled.

I turned towards him, stimulating my SMB to turn my cybernetic eye red, which made the old man’s eyes ogle in fear.

“FREAK.”

“I’ve been called worse,” I said.

The old man ran back into his shop and closed his door, clearly not wanting to have anything to do to me. That’s fine, I didn’t wanna deal with him either. I made my way down the streets.

“What’s the Case File number for this one?” I asked Nova.

“Case File 31-BF070.”

“Enable tracker for Case File 31-BF070”

A white line darted across the peripheral vision of my cybernetic eye and I followed it. As I scoured through the street, noticing how clean it was.

The Sanitation Service Authority were busy at work, spraying down the road, picking up garbage from trash cans, and skips alike. A complete stark contrast to Kever’s Alley, which was littered in muck and feces. However, as this was the Red Light District of Bridge City, it had no choice but to be pristine in stature, if you wanted the best clients. And Admiral Street was known as the best.

It was supposed to be a secret of course, but it was one the poorest kept secrets in the city.

The stories of men, giving women infections were rapid. It was vice-a-versa, like that truly mattered. However, living in the time that we did, there were professionals known as Black Doctors, who were more than ready to assist.

Black Doctors had a wide list of medical “techniques” in the form of self-healing nanites that would flush any infection out of your system. The side effects though were not pretty and I’m glad as hell I didn’t need to piss green for that month.

That’s how most married men get caught. Wife catches green piss in the toilet, be assured. Divorce papers would be delivered the next day, thanks to the automated lawyer system that was developed by law firms all over the city.

A life, I can’t and won’t live.

The GPS line took me to the centre of Admiral Street. On either side of the street were signs of pleasure and debauchery, all the same.

To my immediate right, above a small alley were two well-dressed twins.

They wore yellow illuminated stockings, with black streaks blinking intermittently every five seconds. The vest cuts they wore, were purposely short, showing their pierced belly buttons and a small oval tattoo surrounding each, and possibly the shortest miniskirts I’d ever seen.

They hadn’t noticed at first, but upon catching sight of me they kicked into action, pushing themselves off the graffiti-covered wall, clicking their stilettos against the ground and strutting towards me with excitement in their eyes. It was like watching a band march down a field, entertaining the crowd right before a game of cricket.

I felt my lips curl into a smile, showing my hand. I was liking this and had no other way of proving not. “Hello, sugar.” The twin on the left said, arms interlocked into her sister’s own.

“Afternoon, ladies,” I answered.

“Looking for some fun?” the twin on the right said, tone wistfully delightful.

“No…sorry, here on business.”

“I’m all business, sweety.” The twin on the left said, caressing her leg.

“I’m sure you are,” I said smiling. “Sadly, not the business I’m here for.”

“…a pity.” The twin on the left said, “I would’ve enjoyed playing with that arm of yours.”

I looked down at the synthetic coating I had covering my cybernetic arm, noting how perceptive she was.

“This…” I said, waving it in the air. “Is not for pleasure sadly.”

“Whoever said I meant that?” The woman said, eyes focused on my pants.

I looked down and finally saw the bulge of my pants, not from stiffness, but from bigness.

“Oh,” I said, blushing profusely.

“You have a good day darling,” the twin said, whilst the other kissed at me before sauntering on back to their spot in front of a sign that formed a shapely woman with each flash.

I walked to the other end of the street, looking back. The flashing body was now smaller as if it were zoomed out. A circle formed around the “small” version of her, that read “Peep Window”: For All Your Virtual Taste. Ugh…

I pushed ahead and quickly made my way to where a crowd lingered between three or four BLED Uniformed officers barricading them away from the body.

Five Scope-Drones circled their heads, which I felt great to see. Now I won’t have to wait an hour for the entire area to be processed, compared to Adrianna’s murder.

The thing is, this was to be expected. Usually, as EXiCON, I wouldn’t work two cases, but because the MO was virtually the same, that meant there was precedence at hand, and that was to control the narrative before the media got wind.

I made my way through the crowd nudging people away and finally stepped up to the officers on duty. They had permanent scowl-like gazes upon seeing me. The black and yellow caution light barricade, only made their faces seem like Hannya Boys, without the prosthesis.

“EXiCON 26-10-01003, reporting in,” I said.

“An EXiCON?” the first officer said, face groaning visibly. “On a Major Crimes case?…shit tha—“ he tried to finish, but his partner silenced him with a nudge.

Protocol B5-10 was becoming a real pain in my ass. It was pretty clear, something was going down and a majority of the force was tight-lipped. Surprising, but I guess it was serious. Still, though, it would be nice to know what was happening, after all, I do like to be prepared.

“You’ve been verified,” the patrol officer said. The two officers parted ways as if giving me some grand welcome, but I could tell the mocking from behind their scowling faces.

I walked past them, feeling the heat from the caution lights and heard one of them whisper, “EXiCON.”

How charming I mused to myself, fighting the urge to not raise my finger.

As I traversed the alley, I searched the outlaying walls for cameras. The zooming sound of an engine buzzed past me, and I saw the Scope-Drones level themselves to my height.

I sequestered all of them and put them to work. Three looking for cameras, and the other recording the corpse. "What's the name of the vic?” I asked Nova, pulling up the case file, noting no name was attached.

I walked down the alley. The surroundings were far cleaner than Kever’s Alley. There were no rusted AC units or rusted doors. Yes, there were electrical meters, but those boxes were white with freshly minted caution stickers slapped across the back.

It did have that rancid smell that any backdoor alley would have, and that was due to the trash cans and skips that were haphazardly placed at the back. There were no piles of garbage bags, nor was there any rotting food. “Better place to die?” I asked myself. Death is neither better nor worse.

I stalked my way towards the VIC and knelt beside his ankles. The scent of raw acid hit me, making me queasy in one. Acidslip? I pondered, unsure. I wasn’t into drugs so deciphering the difference between that and Haze was quite hard for me.

The black background with white writing fizzled into existence and I scrolled through the file noting Kanji, Hindi, Hangul, Mandarin, Russian, and Macedonian. “Weird,” I said. Nothing was highlighting the man’s identity resonating with the case file.

I tapped the translation button, but nothing but question marks littered the screen, which meant one thing. The VIC's Digital Identity Frag was altered, meaning whoever he was, he had more credits than all the banks combined. “This isn’t good,” I grumbled, knowing not what to expect next.

I began taking photos with my cybernetic eye and noted the lavish sneakers he wore. His jeans were white, skin fitted and had purple highlights around the ripped area around his knees. No, overall the jeans were ripped in multiple places. The purple highlights seemed to respond to the rumbling AC units around us, as they continuously pulsed, matching the sound. I tapped the ground and watched as the lights grew better in the increase in base I made, confirming my suspicion.

The Vic's chest, like Adrianna’s, had three holes about two inches in width. The blood from his wounds pooled to the side he was lying on, smearing the translucent vest he wore. The fat from his gut was sticking out, making him look uncomfortable, but the most uncomfortable thing about him was his face.

It was a chunk, with three layers of fat beneath his chin. It was clear he didn’t care about his health. The man was a glutton. His hair was styled in an afro style, with the sides partly shaved into arrows.

There was something I noticed that was different compared to Adrianna’s murder. Unlike Adrianna’s eyes, this time, the Vic's eyes had emotion. His eyes were wide open, as if he were in shock, maybe?. Or maybe he knew the killer.

I tried guessing his age and surmised he was 28, in drug years of course. I could smell the Acidslip just before I got here. I penned his lips, noting it was smeared to his right.

With Drugs involved, I couldn’t know what killed him, he could’ve been killed by an overdose and someone could’ve opened his chest.

I poked his face with my cybernetic arm, watching his skin sink. No rigour mortis affect. Recent…but how soon? I hadn’t received a report from the medical examiner as yet, so I was feeling a little anxious. I wanted to get this case over before it got too winded.

After a few moments of staring back and forth, I finally pushed myself up and browsed the area, following the same pattern I did with Adrianna back in Kever’s Alley.

The longer I stayed here, the more frustrated I got. I knew people; could read them through their eyes. But death? I didn’t know as much as I would’ve liked to by now.

I had tried using the ARS for Adrianna, but for some odd reason, it didn’t work. Primary Reason; not an officer of the law, which meant I could only record the surroundings.

“Record,” I told Nova and watched as the cybernetic eye lit up with various notifications. The Scope-Drones sent an array of notifications indicating what they found, technological-wise. Fourteen Electronic Meters. I swiped the seventeen AC Units. Fourteen Cameras. Ding. Perfection.

I typed in a request order to have the outlaying security cameras footage to be sequestered and cased the area some more. The longer I recorded, the more annoyed I got. “This doesn’t make sense, I don’t get any sense of these murders. I can’t interview anyone because I’m an EXiCON. This is frustrating, why initiate this protocol B5-10 if I can’t work to my best?”

I stood there, questioning if begging for work put me in my current predicament.

After a second of reasoning, I surmised that wasn’t the case. I decided to then blame everything on BLED and their shitty ass policies for EXiCON.

…and I still haven’t been paid for the last two larceny cases!

Incoming Call from…

“what now” I groaned, “Zade…I hope you have good news for me because bodies are piling up all around me, and I ain’t a fan of this Protocol B5-10! Or whatever it is!”

“I heard, well I got some bad news for Cyph.” He said coldly. “and you’re right about one thing, the shit has hit the fan.”

I didn’t say that! I hissed to myself. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“A case officer has been assigned, Cypher.”

“Finally…I have no leads and need some form of assistance, who’ll be taking the reigns on this bullshit?”

“Lieutenant Eclain”

I wasn’t one to get angry easily, but when I heard the name, I was pissed. I ground my frustration out of myself and bit my bottom lip. Once patience, resilience and decorum returned I gave a loud sigh and finally spoke.

“This is BULLSHIT and you know it.”