Jun gave me the rest of the day off, I took it despite not needing it. All that was left for the day was providing security for a couple of negotiations with some minor gangs, mostly for intimidation. I could do without all the standing around and looking tough it would entail.

Back in my apartment, I checked out what the news was saying about today’s events. Apparently, the army came very close to moving out because of the morning blitz. Going as far as to deploy a few scouting units in the outskirts to keep track of the situation. Thankfully after a few tense moments cooler heads prevailed, claiming that the damage had been contained and that civilian casualties had been low. If the army and the gangsters had fought the outskirts would have become a mass grave.

LA Tech Industries were calling the events of this morning a terrorist attack that threatened the freedom of the people of Los Angeles and was demanding for the army to intervene. Fortunately, the US government, while weakened and dependent on the corpos, denied the claims. President Sherman himself declared “The US army is more than capable to determine if it requires to intervene, and any fake news of terrorist attacks on US soil by any organization will not be tolerated.”

It would have sounded cool if it weren’t for the fact that it was all bark and no bite.

The rest of the day was uneventful, the squad finished their missions with no further issues.

The next day all operations were put on hold.

The previous vice head of the Sentai Clan, Kentaro Kai, had died.

A funeral was to be held that day. All gang members that could, were to attend.

I went to the shooting range that day. Modern shooting ranges were virtual reality rooms that you could interact with your neural interface and set up to your liking. I practiced shooting long-range under windy conditions with the unfamiliar longbow. While I did that, I was lazily watching through my left eye Batou’s view. I had asked him to share it so that I could see the funeral. It was a pompous affair, the giant face that the holo projection above the casket showed looked nothing like old Kai. It was a much younger and cold face.

After one hour of solid practice, I took a break and grabbed a soda from a vending machine. Before drinking it I raised it to the sky, giving my own send-off to old Kai’s soul. I didn’t know him for long, but I think he would prefer my salute.

That night Jun sent us a message telling us that our Ops for the rest of the week had changed, he sent us the new tasks. Aiding rescue operations, emergency supply deliveries, guarding vulnerable areas from looters, and other relief effort jobs.

The next days were weird. Doing so much good after a lifetime of bringing misfortune to people on the other side of my scope felt weird. Maybe calling it good was pretentious, considering this was the gangs cleaning up their own mess. Still, it looked like old Kai’s sacrifice was not for nothing. I doubted that this behavior would last.

People that were buried under collapsed buildings were rescued, individuals that needed medical attention were treated, and those who lost people dear to them in the crossfire were given cold hard digital credits as compensation.

There were no more assassinations and disappearances but the negotiations with the remaining gangs continued and concluded during these days. At some undefined point, all the gangs of LA were united.

Three days passed in the blink of an eye, it was Saturday, and tonight we were meeting at the Drunk Samurai Club.

While I was getting ready to leave my apartment, I got a call from my uncle.

“Uncle Mike?”

“Boy, wanted to let you know that us grunts from the army are being recalled to the northeast base. Officers got tired of watching the mushy act of the last days. ‘Fraid the men might go soft.”

I chuckled at that. “You are going back to hunting desert bandits?”

“Aye, they’ve been awfully noisy the last month.”

“Try not to get shot.”

“The day I get shot by those amateurs is the day I know that the world has gone insane.”

“Wasn’t it you who taught me that being overconfident was the quickest way to get killed?”

“It’s not overconfidence if the confidence is justified. Bye, boy.”

“Bye, uncle.”

It wasn’t raining and it wasn’t too cold despite it being December. I therefore just put on a sweatshirt with the Sentai’s katana and coiled dragon symbol on it and made my way out. Leaving my jacket hanging.

As much as I liked walking, the Drunk Samurai Club was located on the outskirts, in a district controlled by Sentai. Which meant too far away from my building located closer to downtown.

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I got in my car and drove out of the building’s garage. The city lights were blinding, too many illuminated signs to make heads or tails of what was on them when driving. As I drove away from downtown there were fewer signs and the neon lights became soothing, shifting colors, in mesmerizing patterns.

Sentai and the Undertakers were celebrating. The gangsters were parading the streets with their sports cars and motorcycles. Establishments were brimming with both gangsters and wannabe gangsters. Some looked far too young to have any business with the gangs, yet they wore clothes with the gangs’ symbols. Coiled dragons and katanas of Sentai as well as the skulls of the Undertakers could be seen proudly displayed everywhere you looked.

When I saw the long line in front of the club I grimaced, the place must be full.

I left my car in the club’s parking lot and made my way to the entrance. I walked past the line, getting a few looks. The bouncer, a big man with a goatee, was looking at me silently while I made my way to him. I sent him a ping of my merc ID with my neural interface, he then nodded at me and let me through. Perks of the job.

As I entered the club the music flooded over me. The low beats blasting at a steady pace complemented the electronic music. Making even me want to dance. On the walls, there were neon outlines of samurais with katanas, their poses and color kept shifting with the music. The shifting colors of the lights showed a crowded dance floor with many people dancing offbeat too drunk to care and having the time of their lives.

Despite my eagerness, I wasn’t much of a dancer, and I knew it. So I went for some liquid courage before joining the dancing crowd.

I walked towards the bar on the right side of the building. The bartender was an attractive woman, she had shoulder-length black hair and purple eyes. Her hands were chromed and had lines that were softly glowing purple. She was skillfully moving them while making a cocktail.

When I reached the bar I received a ping to my neural frame, linking me to the cocktail menu. I opened it and looked over the holo images of the drinks with their names and ingredients.

Considering I was going to down whatever I took I decided to go for two shots of vodka.

I scrolled through the options with my eyes and made my selection. My eyes glowed yellow as my credits were transferred.

The bartender walked to my side of the bar and asked me,

“What are you having to drink?”

She already knew my order but asked anyway. The bartenders of Los Angeles did this out of a sense of tradition.

“Two shots of vodka.”

She nodded and went to grab a bottle with one hand and two shot glasses with the other. She came back, placed the two glasses next to each other, and then poured the spirit into one glass, when nearly full she drifted the bottle towards the other glass and kept pouring until it was full. Once done she slightly pushed the shots in my direction and left to serve the next client.

I downed both shots, one after the other.

The alcohol burned my throat. A pleasant buzz settled over me.

I gave a quick look around to confirm that the others were not here yet.

I walked to the dance floor and started moving. Despite not being a particularly good dancer the countless drills I did back when I was in the military helped me stay in tune with the beat.

After a while of dancing aimlessly with a shifting sea of people, someone got closer and started dancing with me. She had neon green hair set on the left side of her face where it met a chromed cheek that had green glowing lines, her eyes were also green.

Guess I knew what her favorite color was.

We jumped to the beat for a while, her hair swaying with her movements. At a certain point, she took hold of my right arm and brought my hand to her chromed left cheek. Metal touching metal she moved my hand towards her ear while looking into my eyes.

Message received.

I closed the distance and kissed her, she kissed me back, pressing against me. We made out on the dance floor for an unknown amount of time. Seconds, minutes, or hours I couldn’t tell.

Eventually, we separated, and time began to flow again. She gave me a wink and walked away.

I stood there for a while, with what I presume must have been a stupid grin on my face.

Snapping out of it I walked back to the bar, only to find Batou looking quite gloomy. He was leaning on the bar with his back, his elbows propped on the bar behind him. He had a thousand-yard stare and barely acknowledged me when I said hi.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“I just lost a big bet with Jun.” He said dejectedly.

I smiled, I could imagine what the bet was on. Feeling a little bad for him I decided to cheer him up.

“Drinks are on me tonight, forget about the bet.”

“Good, because I will never financially recover from this.”

“Just how much did you bet?”

“fifty"

“That’s not that ba-“

“thousand”

I turned to look at him, my mouth still mid-sentence.

I put my hand on his shoulder, suddenly feeling very bad for him.

“You big idiot,” I told him.

“Yes, I know.”

I went towards the bartender while ordering the drinks on my neural interface. Considering Batou was another whiskey lover I got us four whiskey sours. Three for him and one for me.

As Batou and I hurried towards an incredibly rare empty table nearby, a redhead beat us to it. I got to the table and placed our drinks on it “Hey Revy, good job on taking the table.”

She smirked “Nuh-uh you two don’t get to sit here unless one of you accompanies me to the dance floor, I don’t want to go alone.”

I looked at her seriously, “Batou is feeling a bit down right now, and I already danced plenty before. Please just wait till either Jun or Alex show up and have one of them go with you.”

“Fine, I’ll wait” she drawled as she moved towards the bar.

Jun showed up and after Revy’s return was unwillingly dragged towards the dance floor. Before he could go too far Batou informed him of the bet, and he visibly brightened.

We stayed there, drinking while waiting for the last member of the crew. Sometime later Alex sat at the table with a whiskey on hand.

She looked at Batou with some concern. “What’s wrong Batou?”

Batou sighed. “Jun won money from me is what’s wrong.”

“Did you propose the bet?” She asked.

“Yes, I did.” He sighed again.

“Then you can only blame yourself.”

Seeing that he did not react she looked at me “How much did he bet?”

I waited for her to take a sip of her drink. “Fifty thousand.”

She spat her drink and coughed loudly. “Fuck you” she cursed in between coughs.

As I took a sip of my drink Batou said “That was the bet.”

I spat my drink and began coughing.

After we collected ourselves and a more composed Jun along with Revy returned, I stood up and spoke.

“Let’s go to one of the jamming rooms upstairs.

I have an interesting theory to share."