Outrun - Cyberpunk LitRPG

The very air seemed to sizzle and crackle with the soft sputtering of electricity from a half-torn- no, cut power line. A bustling crowd moved about the cracked and broken pavement, uncaring about the electricity just the same as they were about the near-constant echoes of bullets not but a mile to our south. Their faces were drawn into hard lines, each a mask not all that different from a corpo smile.

Children laughed and played amongst a few alleys, not caring that their play places were full of trash and the occasional corpse. They were one of the few non-artificial bright spots on this side of the city, and the people who lived around here would keep it that way. Despite the decay and destitution, the surrounding community had a sense of resilience. In a way, I felt more at home here than ‘safer’ places of the city I had been. It almost reminded me of Ryu Container Yard back before I could understand some things.

Crusaders and more corporate forces kept a calm eye over the block, making sure that the gang warfare of the Scath Heights just to the south didn’t try to encroach on more land. Although they kept out of the blocks that made up the heights, they were more than willing to protect the perimeter like it was the DMZ between two hostile nations.

Joy-toy holograms danced and twirled in an attempt to entice the citizens with their movements, not even caring that by now most people had grown immune to such shallow acts. Soft music played from a nearby vendor’s cart, completely at odds with the heavy feeling of the atmosphere from the long shadows of worn-out and bespeckled buildings. The chef casually flipped some kind of oriental food into a bowl, not caring about the chaos around him.

The city’s sky-tram drove through, uncaring about the long shadow it cast on us plebeians. The neon lights flickered defiantly from their perches as if to fight off the darkness cast by the corporate transport to no avail. The train hung from its rails without seeming to notice the small acts and ultimately meaningless acts of defiance. It moved suspended just a few stories up as it traveled at a rapid pace through the district with its screeching wheels.

A scent toyed across my nose, evoking an exotic feeling as if spices had moved through the area recently. It was an incredibly odd scent, especially considering the destitute state of East End. Unfortunately, it was short-lived before the ambient stench of burning drugs and piss overpowered it once more. Smog played an unseen undercurrent, just as prevalent as the coppery tang of blood caught in the back of my throat.

A breeze blew by, one of a sticky humidity that came with the turn of the season. Winter had long passed, and the temperatures were finally starting to heat back up for spring. Not that it mattered much for us on the streets. It's not like spring would actually bring about plants or anything of the sort. At most, there would be a marginal increase in vermin and the beginning of migratory animals through the city.

I checked the message from Carone and made sure I was in the right place. I stood in front of an abandoned, half-finished arcology right before the edge of the Scath Heights: Gehenna Housing. The thing was gargantuan, and probably would’ve housed tens of thousands had it been finished, bringing about new life to this area. Now, it was a den of crime, squatters, and apparently a small Night Market for the next several days.

I glanced around, my eyes catching on the various blood stains scattered about the broken pavement of the street as my hand rested on the SB-17 strapped to my neck. I tracked a streak of dry blood, spotting a woman who had been shot several times and left to rot just at the mouth of an alley. A couple of days old, maybe.

Several others were in the alley, all as deceased as the last, though they looked more like OD’s than the murder- or maybe self-defense? Hard to tell, not that I cared enough to look into it. Slab Co’s trucks hadn’t come by yet, so most of them were at least two weeks fresh. I averted my eyes. 'Couldn't solve everything... there's a reason the Blue Crusade had fewer patrols in this part of the city.

The cold steel of the rifle felt comforting in my grip. I had felt foolish for wanting to bring it at first, but there was no denying that East End wasn’t the most civil part of the city, especially not the muderhobo den of Scath Heights. As things stand, the unfinished arcology sat way too close to the heights for comfort.

Maybe I should’ve bought some backup? I was far from good at combat, so the chances of me getting attacked were unfortunately rather high. Sure, my rifle would have a strong deterrent effect, but all I needed was a ganger getting a rotten idea in their head.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a problem, though it was best to keep my wits about and make exit strategies as I entered. I already had a few planned based on the blueprints of the original structure, yet there was no telling how accurate they were considering the state of the arcology. Hallways and doors could've collapsed or filled with debris, cutting off my potential routes.

I took a breath, making a mental note to look into getting a mask, and entered the front door of Gehenna Housing. Almost immediately, I was smacked in the face with the scent of half-decomposed bodies hidden under the overpowering scent of Happy. It was a drug known to cause extreme pleasure, so much so that users often suffered strokes or stroke-like symptoms.

I tried to breathe as little of it as possible as I glanced around. Maybe I really should get a mask? Several armed guards- rather, what tried to look like armed guards, stood around the entryway. They were more kids than anything, each looking to be in the same gang. They wore patchwork clothing marked with a shattered red heart.

Really, it wouldn’t be too surprising if a gang was in control of Gehenna Housing. The gang was probably the same group peddling Happy.

They were incredibly tense, especially at spotting my rifle. Several of them seemed to calm down at seeing my face though, causing me to consider getting a mask for a different reason. My face wasn’t exactly conducive to intimidation.

I flashed my phone, showing a verification image that Carone sent me last night. It was quite a surprising image due to the rarity of the sight. I had never seen a full one in person, but I knew what it was. Several stars formed a constellation of some kind, looking a bit like an off-rectangle.

One of the kids, his skin a dull olive and looking incredibly dry, spoke up for the group like the leader as he pointed to a set of stairs. “Market ‘s on the third floor. Don’ go snoopin’, and there won’ be problems, lady.”

I gave a glance over the surroundings, noticing several people hiding in shadowy alcoves and under thick blankets like they were hobos. Several were in even more obvious spots, not even trying to hide as they sat around smoking. Probably senior members of the gang using the youngsters as bait. It was an unfortunately common tactic to get a gonk kid trying to prove something to act as fodder. Then, if they lived long enough, they would grow to be chrome-domes doing the same to a new generation.

What was the relationship between the gang and the market? Did they host it? Hmm… unlikely. It was probably an act of mutual benefit. The market hosted it here to gain the gang’s protection, and the gang would get a chance to make some extra profit from the higher-than-normal amount of people moving through the area.

I moved to the stairs the kid pointed out and went up several sets. For once, I wasn’t even a bit winded upon reaching the top. My above-average amount of activity was finally paying off. I followed the direction from a few other gangers until I reached a dozen guards standing in front of the door.

They were all wearing the same sets of gear, looking closer to PMCs than the typical mercs that guarded events. They each had a patch of stars set in the same roughly square pattern. So the Night Market wasn't so simple after all. They eyed me as I approached, but otherwise didn’t make a move to take my gun or stop me.

After flashing the image on my phone once more, one of the guards handed me a small metallic card. It had the same image on it, though this one seemed far more detailed, like a full night's sky... it really must've been a wonder to see the stars so long ago. “Don’t lose this. We don’t offer seconds, and it's your pass to the next market. Just scan it with your phone.”

“Right.” I slipped the card into a hidden pocket in my jacket and entered the room they guarded. I entered directly into a massive half-finished ballroom of sorts. Market stalls covered the entire area, and there were thousands of voices raised in barter.

So this was a Night Market… I had heard of them and knew they existed, ‘course, but this was my first time entering one. I guess I really am making my way up in the world, for better or worse. What's next? Going into the corporate quarter on a daily basis? Ha...

I entered the Night Market proper and started to pass by the stalls set up by various merchants, each offering an array of technology. About half of everything looked made in a factory, and the other half looked handmade. There was everything from gadgets and tools to industrial-grade machinery on offer.

Most of the stuff looked incredibly intriguing, and I was half tempted to buy something several times. Before getting anything though, I needed to guarantee I got a printer. After a while of searching, I found a guy selling a variety of tools and machinery. He was set up off in the corner of the deteriorated ballroom, with several guards patrolling around.

“Ah, choombata! Come, come, view Suvroc's wares. I’m sure I have what you are looking for, and if I don’t? I know who does!” The guy was very excited, or at least his voice sounded that way. I couldn’t tell for sure thanks to the black nearly featureless mask covering his face. The only thing that stood out about it was the four red eyes set into the mask. Maybe he was a Magus? From what I know, four red eyes were common amongst Crow's sprites.

“I’m looking for a printer. You have one?” I looked through the hundreds of boxes around his massive stall, impressed by the sheer amount of merchandise this ‘Suvroc’ had.

“Do I! Something simple like a paper printer? Or maybe an ASCorp Metal Printer? Perhaps a KairoTech Multi-Medium one? Or something a bit cheaper, say a Softworks Plastic Printer?” He asked as his hand twirled and several boxes were pulled from his supply.

Aetherial Perception didn’t show anything, so he was definitely a Kinetic. Telekinesis, maybe? It didn’t really matter what type of Kinetic he was, just that he was a strong one. Carone may think his little pyro tricks were intimidating, but the pure ease with which this guy moved about his merchandise was far more intimidating, especially considering how heavy they likely were. The mask was weird then? Why show off features reminiscent of Crow's sprites when this Suvroc isn't even a Magus?

I looked through the boxes he showed, noting their pristine condition. They looked entirely untouched, which was damn impressive considering how filthy this place was. “The Softworks one.”

“Right away, choombata.” Most of the boxes went back to their locations as one in particular flew through the air and settled on the table. The top of it simply opened up, allowing me to get a good view of the merchandise. It was in perfect shape, not even taken out of its packaging.

“I’ll give you a thousand for it.” It was a fair price according to what I had seen on the Net.

The man raised his hand to his chest and curved backward. “You insult the great Suvroc! This machine in its prime like this one is worth at least twelve hundred. You won't find a fairer price elsewhere!”

“But I’ll have to put it together myself, so anything over eleven will be a loss to me,” I said, feeling zero confidence in my bartering skills. And what a poor attack that was. 'I have to put it together myself'. Maybe it would've worked elsewhere, but this Night Market obviously catered to making and creating stuff.

Another box floated from the background, this one far smaller than the printer. He popped it open to reveal several rolls of plastic filament. “Look, twelve hundred fifty and I’ll even throw in a bulk order of supplies needed to run the printer for free. It's a great deal, choombata!"

I hadn’t thought of that. It had been my focus to get a printer in the first place, so I completely overlooked the fact that I would need resources to actually print with… “Fine…”

“Nova!” The man waved his hand and both boxes rested on the table. A board floated up behind him, illuminated by a neon light strip that twirled around it. The board had the guy’s account information.

I fed it to my PA and transferred the Rayn, feeling slightly bitter that I hadn’t managed to talk down the price point at all. Wait a second, had the price gone up? What the fuck? Damn, I really need to work on my bartering skills. The printer had cost me sixteen hundred fifty in total, which wasn’t ideal. That left me at just over thirty-five hundred, not including the money I still owed Feras.

“It was a pleasure, miss.” The guy turned to a new customer walking up as I stacked the boxes and headed for the door. Yep, definitely should’ve brought back up- at least to carry my new gear.