The gemstone district had all the glitz and glamor of a true gemstone but none of the authenticity. Like an overly studded necklace, the buildings crowded together, their various colors clashing but attracting attention. Storefronts with glass windows of etched neon advertised every manner of vice legally available in Cyber Crane city. The people working in the district matched the windows, electric fibers woven through their clothes in enticing patterns.

The various stores distinguished themselves with color, and in doing so blinded their customers.

Nadia’s flying vehicle set down within walking distance of the district. Tsukiko let the two men out and then left to find parking. The engines kicked up a cloud of dust, masking her exit.

James and Garret walked toward the district. “This whole place looks like it’s built on a bridge,” James said.

He looked at the clustered stores, catching areas where the ground dipped to reveal a piece of support structure. Garret looked at none of it, instead choosing to stare at his hands as he squeezed them nervously.

It made James nervous just looking. “Come on. Let’s find a place to sit and look around.”

They picked a place that sat somewhat in the center of the district, with outside tables so James could get a look at the people walking around. Garret ordered more food, potato wedges.

Those in the district were nothing like the others James had interacted with in Cyber Crane. They wore bright clashing colors of various styles. And none of the fashion seemed standardized, unlike the robes others wore on the higher floors. He watched a man, shirtless save for a sleeveless shimmering vest, bob his head to music only he could hear. A pair of women dressed in tight dresses walked behind him, giggling and spilling their drinks. Further behind them walked a trio of punks, their robes ripped and resown with patchworks of colored expression.

James grabbed a potato wedge as it came out and made a face. “Wow, this is a good six hundredths of a credit more than the pub we came from, and half the quality.”

Garret didn’t seem to mind, though his eating came more from stress than actual enjoyment.

“Are you sure no one is looking at us?” Garret asked. “I feel like someone is looking at us.”

“They’ll start looking if you don’t keep your cool,” James said. “Just relax, no one is going to single us out.”

Garret nodded, but continued to nervously shovel fries. James sighed. Sometimes it was hard helping people. He called one of the waiters over.

“Can you get us something good to drink? My friend here just came into some money and we’re looking to celebrate.”

Garret paused. “Why would you say that?”

James looked apologetically at the waiter. “Sorry about him, he’s scared some relatives are going to send hitmen or something.”

The waiter nodded sympathetically to James. “Sure, I’ll get you both some of the good stuff. Help calm his nerves.”

“I don’t have any money,” Garret whispered after the waiter left.

“No, but now you have an excuse for looking like a stray dog that just got adopted,” James said. “Besides, I have more than enough to cover this scrap.”

Garret started to pick at his nails. “Sorry. I think I’m psyching myself out. Afraid they’ll just come and take me like last time.”

James nodded. “Don’t worry, I can take on a bunch of thugs no problem.”

Their drinks arrived and Garret started taking large gulps. James pulled the drink away. “Don’t get carried away. If you’re drunk you won’t be able to think straight.”

“How are we supposed to meet these guys anyway?” Garret asked. “It’s not like we can ask someone.”

“Simple, we find a guy who knows a guy,” James said. He called the waiter over before Garret could say anything.

“Which store is the best for those vape sticks on all the windows?” James asked. He took out his handheld and tipped the man an entire credit. The man looked at him and James winked. “I told you he came into some money. And we were hoping to try everything there is to offer.”

The waiter accepted the bribe and pointed. “You’ll definitely want to try Smoking Gunther’s, then.”

“Much obliged,” James said. He stood, paying for the meal on his handheld and grabbing Garret by the shoulder. “Come on, let’s go buy some drugs.”

Garret cringed at the wording.

James rolled his eyes. “You keep this up and people are going to think I’m kidnapping you or something.”

“Right, sorry,” Garret said. “I’m just not—“

James interrupted. “Used to this, you said. How in the world did you even sell these XP chips before if you’re this jumpy?”

“I wasn’t dealing with people who might kill me then,” Garret hissed.

James shrugged and opened the doors to Smoking Gunthers. Spiced air wafted out, assaulting both men with the heady smells of tobacco and other addictive substances. A series of viewscreens were on the wall, each playing a different action movie of some kind. All of them involved firearms.

“Wow, he’s playing some classics,” Garret said. “You don’t see many movie with guns in them anymore.”

“I only remember one that played back at the tower,” James said. “It was about a robot sent back in time by a glowing blue AI to destroy their creator.”

“I remember that one,” Garret said. “The end where the robot teams up with the creator to escape the giant monster that swallowed them.”

“Sounds like the two of you are some connoisseurs,” a smoky voice said from behind a door. The belly met them first, followed by the smoking apparatus resting on top of it.

“Name’s Gunther, as I’m sure you’ve guessed,” the man said as he wheeled out on a hovering chair. “And you’re both new faces.”

James walked forward. “Pleasure to meet you, Gunther. Name’s James.”

Gunther made a hacking laugh that sounded like a skipped record. “It’s only a pleasure if you’re buying!”

“Then you are about to be very pleased,” James said. He pulled Garret over. “My friend here has come into some money and we are celebrating. Can you believe he hasn’t tried a single drug, ever?”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“I’ve tried drugs,” Garret protested.

“Vape sticks don’t count,” James said.

“Heh, that they don’t,” Gunther said. “I don’t deal in them. Mass-produced swill is what it is. The nicotine is all that matters to those idiots. They forget about the soul of it.”

James nodded along, happy to let the man talk. “We were told you were the best.”

“More than the best,” Gunther answered. “I’m an artist. What others sell, I craft. See this here?” Gunther maneuvered his hover chair over to a line of dried plants. “I cured each of these in small batches, adjusting as they dried. Each one holds a unique flavor profile you will never forget.”

“Impressive,” James said. “What would you recommend for someone new to the whole thing?”

Gunther hovered over to a bag of assorted dry leaves. “This one here is my starter pack. Comes with a grab bag of flavors and I throw in a free pipe to boot.”

“I don’t want a pipe,” Garret complained.

“He doesn’t want a pipe,” James said with a shake of his head. “I told you he was new.”

“Straight from the womb new I’d say,” Gunther answered. “Well. If we want something simple I have a few cigars laying around. Not my best work. I was dabbling one day, trying something new.”

“We’ve all been there,” James said. He walked over to Gunther. “Garret, how about you look around a bit?”

Garret nervously nodded and walked off. James rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe how skittish he’s being. It was his idea to do this whole thing in the first place.”

Gunther waved a large hand. “They all are like that at first. Think they know what they want but get overwhelmed by the choice.”

“Speaking of choice,” James said. “Do you have anything that isn’t for smoking?”

“No needles,” Gunther answered instantly.

James recoiled. “I would never! No I was thinking something edible.” He looked to Garret. “All he has to do then is pop it in his mouth.”

“Can’t say that I do,” Gunther said.

“Not even anything special?” James asked. “I was told this is where everything is sold.” He pulled out his handheld and handed over another credit.

Gunther narrowed his eyes as he received the bribe. “You a cop?”

James snorted. “Yeah, I’m a cop and I brought the one officer who shakes more than a loose bolt on an engine with me.”

Gunther squinted, then relented after he saw nothing damning in James. “Fair enough. Gotta ask that, though. There’s a law about it. They gotta tell you if they’re a pig.”

James nodded. He didn’t believe the statement, but who knew how the megacity worked.

“Right, come with me,” Gunther said. “You and your friend.”

James pulled Garret away from a row described as ‘tasteful leaves’. There was nothing tasteful about them from James’s perspective but he wasn’t one to judge.

Gunther hovered over to the back of the store, looking around to make sure no one else was looking. “Back here.”

James and Garret walked into the room, down a short hallway into a storage closest, and then down a small lift that led out to an underground garage. Servitors wheeled and hovered about, ferrying large stores of goods to the other stores around. Gunther ignored it all, hovering across the garage in his chair toward a dilapidated area at the back.

“You’re new, so don’t make any sudden movements or anything,” Gunther said.

James nodded once while Garret bobbed his head up and down frantically. Gunther chuffed a laugh and then opened the door. A large man stood in the hallway, his body almost taking up the entire space. James could see both arms were made of metal and likely filled with enough cybernetics to power a small house.

He was wondering where all the power came as the bouncer spoke. “New faces, Gunther?”

“They want something more than my smoky talents,” Gunther answered.

“Can they pay?” the bouncer asked.

“Trust me, they can pay alright,” Gunther answered. He showed the bouncer the credit James sent.

James could practically see the greed taking over the bouncer. His stern face slackened as he looked at the two newcomers. “Right this way, gentlemen,” he said with as much grace as he could muster.

It was the grace of a chainsaw in a whittling contest but James tipped the man all the same. Only a portion of a credit, but still more than he needed. James wanted to leave an impression.

The bouncer led them into a musky room of undesirables. James caught glances from others as he looked around the room. Men and women relaxed on comfortable couches in various poses. There were pieces of half-eaten food nearby some, while others were connected to computer by a cord at their neck. They looked completely out of it.

“Wow, what a setup,” Garret said. “I’m guessing a central computer spinning up virtual boxes whenever someone connects?”

“You’d have to ask the techies about that,” the bouncer said. “I just guard the door.”

A clank of metal striking metal caught James’s attention. He turned to see a small crowd around a boxing ring. Two cybernetically enhanced contestants were taking swings at each other.

“You have a fighting ring?” James asked.

“Nothing big,” the bouncer answered. “Small bets and amateur fights. Don’t want to step on larger toes.”

James nodded in understanding. The option of a fighting ring opened a few things up, however.

“It must take someone impressive to run all this,” James said quietly.

“I’m glad you think so,” a neon orange outline said.

A woman stepped out of the dark, revealing the punk denim jacket with neon orange highlights. Her hair, the tips highlighted to match the orange, was a side parted mohawk that made her look both professional and casual.

“So, what brings you to my concrete den?” she asked.

James pulled Garret forward. “Looking to get him something special. We came into a bit of money recently and are celebrating.”

“Congratulations,” the woman said. Her soft voice didn’t match her sharp smile. “What are you wanting to celebrate with?”

“My friend here wanted to try something new but wasn’t sure where to start,” James said. “I said why not try it all now that we have the money.”

The woman nodded. “Talk to Gisela at the bar, or Rodrigo if you want something more cerebral.”

“No thanks, our business is cerebral enough,” James said. He stepped over to the bar and ordered a drink. It was time for him to spin the story.

Garret walked over with him. James called Gisela over and pulled out his handheld. “So, how much would a credit get me?”

“Quite a lot,” Gisela answered with a raised brow. “You came into a lot of money didn’t you?”

“Sold some XP chips,” James said.

Gisela raised an eyebrow. “You must’ve sold a lot. XP chips aren’t something a person makes a credit over. And certainly not enough to spend a whole credit on fun.”

“They’re special is all I can say,” James said. He leaned back, glancing quickly to the neon orange woman. Sure enough, she was eyeing them.

“What can be that special?” Gisela asked.

James nudged Garret. “He’s the techie here. I just handle the talking.”

Gisela looked at Garret, who gulped. “Um, I don’t think I should say.”

“Fair enough,” Gisela shrugged. “What you do is your business.”

James grabbed Garret and pulled him close. “Garret, bud. We’re celebrating! And it isn’t like we have to keep it a secret! We are selling it after all!”

“What are you doing?” Garret asked under his breath.

“You’re doing great,” James whispered back. “Just answer the question.”

“Oh, fine,” Garret said. He grabbed his drink and gulped it down. “They’re XP chips of a pro Skateball player.”

That got Gisela’s attention, and the woman in neon orange from what James could see.

“That is impressive,” Gisela said. “How’d you pull that off?”

“Now that is the secret,” James laughed. “Can’t have anyone cutting into our business. I’m sure you know how it is.”

James took a swig of his own drink, gulping a large amount before setting the drink down. “And now that the Energy Gang is gone we don’t have to worry about them breaking our legs or anything.”

The change in Gisela’s look was subtle, but it was there. James held back a smile. Someone was taking the bait.

James had wanted to make it seem like the Energy Gang used to hold the production of these XP chips, and it looked like his small comment had done the trick. Gisela’s face shifted momentarily, her eyes flicking in three directions. James rolled his neck.

The woman in neon orange sat next to James. She laid a hand on his. “Tell me more about you and the Energy Gang,” she said.

James shrugged. “Not much to say. We didn’t work for them all that much, just did a bit of selling on the side. Nothing big, you know?”

“Then,” James felt the woman’s grip on his hand tighten. “How did you come into possession of these XP chips?”

“Hey calm down there,” James said. “At least buy me dinner first.”

He knew it wasn’t the right thing to say, but he couldn’t help himself. The woman’s eyes narrowed.

“Gisela,” she said. “Call Todd back in.”

“Sure thing, ma’am,” Gisela said. James caught another flick of the eyes.

“Now,” the woman said. “I don’t like getting messy. So you’re going to tell me everything. How you stole from the Energy Gang, how you got away with it, and where you’re keeping anything else.”

“Counter offer,” James said.

He moved, one hand throwing his glass in the direction Gisela had looked while the other twisted out of the woman’s grip. A quick follow through had him grabbing her by the jacket, which he twisted as he shifted his weight off his chair. There was a shout of surprise as the woman fell to the ground with him.

Another quick twist had James pulling the woman up into a rear naked choke. The room stilled.