Adventure of Ry 1

They emerge from the old waterway into a packed commercial avenue, carrying the stolen pistol beneath wet coats. Neon ads wash over commuters and autonomous traffic while sewer stink trails them.

She turns into a stream of office workers beneath a canopy of holographic signage. Ry takes another flow toward the elevated transit lanes, and the city swallows them separately.

By the time Ry reaches his high-rise, rain has rinsed some of the tunnel grime from his coat. The lobby recognizes his implants and unlocks the private lift without a word.

His apartment seals behind him, muting the avenue below. Across the wall display, the warrant evidence continues replicating through public feeds while distant sirens remain outside.

A quiet chime interrupts the broadcast. An encrypted message waits on his home terminal, tagged with the detective's former department credentials.

Ry strips off the stained coat and damp clothing, leaving them in a heap beside the apartment’s sterilizer. Rainwater ticks from the fabric onto the floor.

The holo screen enlarges the encrypted message. Department credentials frame a short header, authenticated through an obsolete internal channel.

More text resolves beneath her recorded voice: a timestamp, a location marker, and a request for confirmation from an account still recognized as active.

The message waits on the holo display, its pale lettering reflected in Ry’s optic implants while the city’s sirens fade beneath the sealed windows.

Ry leaves the encrypted message sealed. The terminal preserves its header and suspends the channel, keeping the payload untouched while the room returns to silence.

Before the display dims, a security pane verifies the sender's account as Mara Venn, a former Internal Affairs data auditor, marked inactive six years ago.

The terminal also caches a one-use reply route tied to the obsolete credentials. It can send a confirmation without opening the message or exposing Ry's apartment network.

The advantage sits ready beside the sealed file, a clean thread for tomorrow. Outside, sirens fade into the high-rise's steady electrical hum.

Ry showers until the tunnel stink and alley grime are gone. Clean clothes replace the damp ones, and the stolen pistol rests sealed beside the apartment door.

Sleep comes quickly beneath the muted city hum. Morning light arrives through polarized glass, turning the high-rise windows silver.

Ry carries the weapon through back streets to Durk's market stall beneath an elevated transit line. Durk, a broad older man with a shaved head, yellow-tinted optics, and a patched black coat, looks up from a weapons case.

The exchange stays quiet and clean. Credits transfer, the stolen pistol disappears into Durk's inventory, and Ry retrieves his revolver from a locked drawer.

Back home, Ry leaves the sealed file untouched and forwards its access details to one of his mercenary hackers for review. The apartment terminal confirms the request, preserving Mara Venn's message for later.

Ry leaves Ry’s high-rise apartment behind and arrives at TOPSHELF.

TOPSHELF occupies three stacked floors beneath the elevated transit line, all smoked glass, violet signage, and bass that trembles through the pavement. Mercs crowd the entrance, trading weapons, rumors, and sealed data chips.

Inside, Kessa, a middle-aged woman with copper-brown skin, a shaved scalp, and a chrome jaw, watches the room from behind a curved polymer bar. Her white armored vest carries the TOPSHELF emblem.

A wall of translucent listings scrolls above the bar: convoy security, corporate extraction, evidence recovery. One listing pulses amber beneath a department-coded seal.

Nearby, a young adult man with a narrow build, mirrored visor, and electric-blue braids pauses over a data slate. He angles it toward Ry without leaving his stool.