Cheong Eun-Seo stood in the dim light of the junkyard, her presence a blend of striking contrast and quiet menace. Half of her hair was jet black, the other a stark white, with a hot pink underside that peeked through as her angled bangs swept unevenly across her face, like a curtain rising to reveal a stage. The rest of her hair fell in a sleek cascade down her back, framing her sharp, pale features. Her half-lidded stare, one of perpetual indifference, gave nothing away. Azure blue eyes—clearly modified—gleamed unnaturally bright in the twilight, each iris marked with two faintly glowing pink Xs, a signal her neural link was offline. Untethered from the network, she was a ghost, untraceable, and that made her all the more dangerous.

  Her figure was slender, almost delicate, but her presence commanded the space around her like a force field. According to the dossier Ryker had studied, she was more than she seemed—someone capable of outsmarting and outlasting the worst NeoNexus could throw at her. A survivor, but also a fighter, though her current stance suggested she’d grown tired of the game.

  As the two stood amidst rusting metal and discarded tech, the silence between them was heavy with unspoken tension. Eun-seo’s lips twitched into a small, humorless smile, like she’d been expecting this encounter for some time. She glanced at Ryker with something that could have been disdain—or resignation.

  “So, it’s you,” she said finally, her voice as sharp and cool as her appearance. Her arms crossed over her chest in a way that seemed more thoughtful than defensive. “I guess I should invite you in. You don’t look like the type to leave just because I tell you to, am I right?”

  Her gaze flicked briefly to the cigarette smoldering between Ryker’s fingers before locking back onto his face. There was no fear in her expression, only a weary sort of acceptance. She gestured vaguely toward a patch of metal wreckage that concealed her makeshift home—a battered trailer hidden in the labyrinth of junk.

  “You might as well come inside,” she sighed. “If nothing else, I’d rather not have this conversation in a scrapyard.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she turned on her heel and began walking toward the trailer. Ryker hesitated for a beat, watching the way she moved—calculated, deliberate, every step as if she was anticipating an ambush. His instincts prickled. This woman was more than the tired fugitive the contract had painted her to be.

  He flicked his cigarette into the dirt and followed, his hand instinctively brushing the hilt of the blade strapped to his thigh. Whatever he was stepping into, he knew one thing for sure: Cheong Eun-seo was going to be trouble.

  She led him into the trailer, her movements precise and deliberate, as if even the simple act of opening a door required calculation. The exterior of the trailer was a mess—a battered, rusting shell of metal patched together with whatever scraps the junkyard had to offer. It looked like it might collapse under its own weight at any moment. But the interior was an entirely different story.

  Inside, the space was meticulously clean, surprisingly organized for someone hiding out in a junkyard. The walls were lined with makeshift shelving, holding an odd mix of books, tech gadgets, and spare parts. A faint glow from a single hanging bulb illuminated the area, casting a warm light over the polished counter and a neatly made bed tucked into the corner. The faint hum of a small generator served as a quiet background to the peculiar sanctuary.

  On the counter, an assortment of cat food cans were neatly stacked, labels worn but readable. A small dish sat on the floor nearby, remnants of tuna clinging to its edges. The unmistakable sound of soft purring drifted from somewhere beneath the sofa, followed by a flash of movement as a scrappy tabby darted into the shadows.

  “You’re lucky I’m a decent host,” Eun-seo muttered, brushing her hand across the counter as she walked past. “Most people don’t get invited past the scrap heap. Don’t touch anything.”

  Ryker smirked, leaning against the doorframe as he took in his surroundings. “So, this is your fortress, huh? Cozy. Didn’t peg you for a cat lady.”

  Her sharp eyes flicked toward him, unamused. “They’re strays, not pets. The junkyard’s their sanctuary, not mine. I just... share the space.”

  “Generous of you,” he replied, though his tone carried more curiosity than sarcasm. He stepped further inside, careful to avoid knocking over anything, his boots leaving faint prints on the pristine floor.

  Eun-seo pulled a chair away from a cluttered desk and gestured for him to sit. “If you’re here to waste my time, get out now. Otherwise, let’s cut to the point. Who sent you?”

  Ryker chuckled, settling into the chair but keeping his posture loose, ready. “Relax. I’m not here to drag you out by your hair. Yet. Let’s just say I’m the kind of guy who likes to know what he’s walking into before making decisions.”

  Eun-seo crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. “Then you’ve got a problem. I’m not some damsel in distress or easy mark. If someone sent you, they didn’t tell you everything. And if you’re smart, you’ll start asking why.”

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  Her words hung in the air, laced with something almost akin to a warning. Ryker studied her, weighing the tension in the room. There was more to her than the profile had suggested—layers of secrets she clearly had no intention of surrendering.

  “Well,” he said after a moment, his voice steady, “good thing I’ve always liked a challenge.”

  “So, let me guess—Virtu sent you, right?” Eun-seo’s tone was sharp, her words laced with bitter certainty. She didn’t wait for confirmation, the rhetorical edge cutting through the quiet hum of the generator. Her azure eyes locked onto Ryker’s, the twin pink Xs flickering faintly like forgotten warning signs.

  Ryker tilted his head, exhaling a stream of smoke from the cigarette now dangling loosely between his fingers. He didn’t respond immediately, letting her fill the silence with her own assumptions.

  “Of course, they did,” she continued, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the counter. “It’s always Virtu. The new world’s big pharma, the hand that feeds—and the hand that strangles. They’ve got their claws in everything, don’t they? Medical advancements, tech, infrastructure. Hell, even the government isn’t real anymore. Just a fa?ade for people to pretend their votes mean something while Virtu pulls the strings.”

  Her voice grew harder, her words spilling out like venom. “They’ve got their puppets in office, dancing for them like trained monkeys. And for what? Another raise? A better seat at the table? Virtu’s money flows like water, and everyone’s too damn thirsty to see the poison in it. They own this city. No, they own the world. And whatever they want, they take. No questions, no compromises. Democracy’s just a relic they keep in a glass case to distract the weak.”

  Ryker watched her, unflinching, letting her rant roll over him. He took another drag of his cigarette before finally speaking, his voice calm but edged with curiosity. “You seem to know an awful lot about Virtu for someone who spends her days holed up in a junkyard.”

  Eun-seo’s eyes narrowed, the corner of her mouth twitching with a hint of a smirk. “That’s because I’ve seen what they’re really capable of. And trust me, you don’t want to be on their radar any longer than you already are.”

  “Good thing I’m not much for politics,” Ryker replied, his tone measured. “I’m just here to do a job. You’re the one making it sound like I signed up for something bigger.”

  “Because you did.” She straightened, taking a slow step forward. “If Virtu sent you after me, it’s not just about me anymore. You’re caught in their game now, whether you like it or not.”

  Ryker’s expression darkened slightly, the weight of her words settling in the room. “And what exactly makes you so important that Virtu’s willing to put someone like me on your trail?”

  Eun-seo hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, the defiance in her eyes softened, replaced by something Ryker couldn’t quite place. “Let’s just say I know too much about the wrong things. Things Virtu would rather bury than let the world find out.”

  “Secrets?” Ryker probed, his voice low. “Or leverage?”

  “Both,” she said simply. “And if you’re smart, you’ll figure out which side you’re really on before it’s too late.”

  Ryker let the silence hang in the air, sizing her up. Outside, the wind rattled a loose panel on the trailer, and the distant hum of activity from the Slums drifted through the thin walls. Inside, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. She was no street-level nobody; Eun-seo was someone who had made Virtu sweat. And that made her valuable—or dangerous.

  He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, the cigarette dangling precariously between two fingers. “I’m not much of a joiner,” he said quietly. “I don’t pick sides without a good reason.”

  Eun-seo’s laugh was short and humorless. “In Neo Nexus, not picking a side is the same as being owned by the corporations. Indecision is what keeps them strong.”

  “Maybe,” Ryker replied. “Or maybe I’m just patient. I don’t jump in without knowing what I’m dealing with.”

  She uncrossed her arms, tapping a long, delicate finger against the counter. “You came here for me, so don’t pretend you haven’t already chosen. You took their contract. You walked into the Slums, into this junkyard, and knocked on my door. You think that’s neutral ground? It’s not.”

  He blew a thin stream of smoke upward, considering that. She wasn’t wrong. The moment he’d accepted the job, he’d stepped onto the board. But that didn’t mean he had to play by their rules.

  “I don’t care about their corporate chess match,” he said at last, voice low. “I’m here to find you. The terms of the contract are flexible enough—bring you in or confirm you’re gone. Either way, I get paid.”

  Eun-seo’s eyes narrowed again, the pink Xs in her irises reflecting the dim light. “So what now? You drag me back to them and collect your paycheck?”

  Ryker shrugged. “Depends on what you can offer me. If I see a bigger payout on the horizon, maybe I reconsider. Maybe I don’t hand you over on a platter.”

  She gave a bitter smirk. “All men want something. Money, power, sex or influence. Same old story.”

  He stood, taking a slow step toward her, a hand slipping casually into his jacket pocket. “Call it what you want. Right now, it’s leverage. You say you know things Virtu wants to bury. I’m listening.”

  Eun-seo’s gaze flicked briefly to the door, as if evaluating an escape route, then back to him. “You think because you’re a hired gun you’re somehow out of their reach? Virtu will crush anyone who stands in their way. Me, you—doesn’t matter.”

  Ryker let a crooked smile tug at his lip. “I’ve made a career out of being a pain in people’s asses. They haven’t crushed me yet.”

  “Yet,” she repeated softly. For the first time, there was a note of concern in her voice. “Look, I don’t trust you, and I sure as hell don’t need you holding my leash. But if we’re both caught in Virtu’s gears, maybe it’s better we find a way out that doesn’t involve one of us bleeding on this floor.”

  Her words hung there, laced with caution and a hint of reluctant partnership. Outside, a cat yowled in the darkness, and the trailer’s thin walls creaked as if voicing their own opinion.

  Ryker nodded slowly. “That’s more like it. So tell me, Eun-seo—what do you know that’s worth risking a dance with the devil?”

  She exhaled, shoulders sagging just a fraction. “Pull up a chair, merc. This might take a while.”