Gary was a hell of a place to find parking. At her approach, Amber's motorcycle growled to life in the verdant glow of the Shillelagh's neon sign. She peered around it for bodies - victims of its high-voltage anti-theft system - and found an open toolbox overturned in the mud beside the curb. Someone had gotten off lucky.

After pillaging the toolbox for its power drill, she mounted the cycle and pulled up a local map in a hyper reality window. With a squeeze of the handle, the alcohol-burning motor roared, whipping her around the corner. As she neared the interchange with Interstate 94, she'd chicane around piles of rubble from turf wars gone ballistic, and pass locals huddled next to barrel fires. Chicago's cheapest coffin motels rose up by the onramp, as did the Yarders' night market. She'd always meant to visit, but not tonight.

Weaving past traffic, she took the exit for Danville, before hopping off on the Lincoln Highway. The end of the road tonight was Chicago Heights, a charming little plot of condo towers ringed with electrofences and security towers. Her approach drew suspicious eyes, and one of Makie's armed security drones watched her till she entered her condo.

The mock-wood door to the apartment slid shut behind Amber. She flung her coat on a hook alongside her pack and helmet.

The studio was a dismal affair. Slightly smaller than a shipping container, it came generously equipped with concrete floors and a kitchenette. Orange light poured from over half a dozen physical computer screens of various kinds. A hundred whirring fans shuffled the hot, humid air. As Amber stepped forward, she plunged into a thick carpet of black cables.

As usual, Velvet had fallen asleep in The Deep. Sprawled on their single bed and clad in pajamas, the girl's long violet hair was cupped by a top-of-the line VR headset. A glance at the largest of the computer screens replicated her POV, resting peacefully on a tatami mat.

Amber waded through the wires to the kitchenette. Prepack and foodpaste yet again. The Bratva Vory paid alright, but between rent and bribes for Makie's "Peacekeepers", the two women couldn't afford much else. Amber just sighed, and mulled over the texture.

Slipping in bed, she cracked open their single window, and pulled the covers over her and Velvet. As with most nights, she let a long, weary stare rest on her roommate, before wrapping an arm around her waist, and gently holding her from behind. Savoring the scent of her shampoo, Amber let herself drift into dreams.

Amber's footsteps carried her swiftly, down opposed rows of coffins stacked double atop one another. The steel-tiled corridor was stained with rust and grime. A bald, bleary-eyed simulacrum cleaned the shared bathroom. Amber paid him a small nod, and continued on.

Those folks never came. Turns out, the rich still preferred staying above ground, as high above ground as money allowed. Gradually, the housing complexes were replaced by coffin hotels, the schools turned into gang hives, the restaurants mafia fronts or crack dens, and the roads choked with garbage. In a city with highrises that pierced the clouds, this was where the poorest of the poor actually ended up. And often their kids.

Amber had business here today. "Business" being collecting money for the Bratva Vory. She might've tried to stick to bounty hunting, but fact remained that money was tight, and life was cheap. If paying rent meant being a mafia goon, then so be it.

She'd completed three stops. A couple thousand cryptos of protection money and gambling debts sat in her temporary wallet. Then came stop number four. As she approached the corner, she heard a male voice pleading for mercy.

"Okay, okay! I'll give all I can."

"You better, if ya know what's good for you."

This was not supposed to happen. This never happened. Had she been too slow, forcing another collector to step in? Nonetheless, something seemed off. She drew her gun, and swung around the corner to find four men. One of them was her target, the guy she'd seen on her TAP. The rest were clad in dark red jackets, caps, and rags, with olive green pants. The unmistake uniforms of the South Side Stormtroopers.

Perhaps provoked by the gun in her hand, one of them started raising his SMG for Amber. She acted fast - aiming and squeezing the trigger. A spray of blood burst from his chest, and he fell in a heap.

In reply, both remaining Stormtroopers opened fire. Pistol bullets and laser beams whizzed by Amber as she crouched behind the corner, chipping at the concrete. She fired again, this time nailing the guy in his stomach. He fell with a horrible cry, and curled up around the gaping wound.

Seeing the odds against him, the third Stormtrooper decided to fight another day. Amber shot, but missed him by a hair, and he disappeared down a bend in the corridor.

The surviving Stormtrooper writhed and groaned. As Amber drew near, he wriggled in vain for his gun, which had fallen out of reach. Amber ground her foot in his stomach wound, and shot him twice in the chest.

"Shut UP! Shut up!" she screamed, baring her ursine teeth.

Amber waited a moment, ensuring the Stormtrooper was inert. Now splashed in blood, she set sights on her original target. The poor sap was sobbing, and his voice quavered as she approached.

"Don't- Don't hurt me! Who sent you?!"

"Li Xiao. Who the fuck were these guys?"

"I... uh, might've taken out a loan..."

Amber picked him up by the throat, and slammed him against the coffins.

"Well now, ain't that somethin'? Double-dipping to feed your addiction? Couldn't resist the thrill? ... You'd better give me all you have right now, or else The Banker ain't gonna be pleased."

"I'm sorry! I gave it all to them!"

"Which one?!" she growled.

"The one who ran, okay?!"

Amber's eyes widened. Dropping her target to the floor, she glanced at the bend in the corridor, then her gun.

With a sigh, she knelt down next to the scared, shaking man. The beads of sweat on his forehead ran in stark relief against golden neon light. She took his chin in hand, and put on a slight smile.

"Listeeen. I don't wanna hurt ya. I'll just tell Master Xiao something came up, that you couldn't come up with our agreed-upon payment." Her smile subtly shrank. "... but you'd better make that cash soon. Otherwise, my orders might be less kind. Ya hear?"

The man simply nodded, eyes flitting between Amber's face and her gun.

"Good man. I'll see you next week."