Current Status: Loop 48
Location: The Golden Carp Gambling Den, Level 42
Time: 12:30 PM
Mist Density: 88%
Hypothermia is a slow, seductive killer.
First, you shiver violently. Then, the shivering stops, and you feel a strange, warm euphoria as your blood retreats from your extremities to protect your core.
I was in the shivering phase. My teeth chattered with the rhythm of a jackhammer.
Mei kicked the rusted iron door of the "Golden Carp." It swung open with a shriek of neglected hinges.
We stumbled inside. The transition from the freezing, sewage-choked exterior to the interior was jarring. The air was thick with blue cigarette smoke, the smell of frying garlic, and the aggressive clatter of Mahjong tiles.
Dozens of eyes turned toward us.
To them, we looked like swamp creatures. I was a billionaire in a ruined bespoke suit, dripping black sludge. Mei was a cyberpunk street rat, her blue hair plastered to her skull, her cybernetic arm grinding audibly.
"We need... towels," I stammered.
A massive man with tattoos of dragons coiling up his neck stepped in front of us. He held a kinetic shotgun—bulky, illegal, effective.
"This is a private club," he grunted. "Membership only."
"My name is Mei Chen," Mei said, her voice shaking but defiant. "Tell Uncle Wu that 'Glitch' is here. And I brought the man who built the surveillance state."
The bouncer frowned. He looked at me. "You look like you built a sewer."
"I... feel like it," I admitted. (Truth).
The bouncer tapped his earpiece. A moment later, he stepped aside.
"Boss wants to see the freak show. Move. Don't bleed on the carpet."
Location: Private Office, The Golden Carp
Time: 12:40 PM
Uncle Wu was an institution in the Lower Levels. In Loop 22, I had hired his men to create a distraction. In Loop 37, I had dismantled his operation using corporate legal teams.
In this loop, I was shivering on his Persian rug.
Wu sat behind a mahogany desk that had clearly been salvaged from a flooded museum. He was peeling a lychee with delicate, manicured fingers. Flanking him were four guards. To his right stood his lieutenant, a wiry man with a chrome jaw named Razor.
"Mei Chen," Wu said, popping the fruit into his mouth. "You are bold. You hacked my logistics server three months ago."
"I needed the bandwidth," Mei shrugged.
Wu turned his gaze to me. "And you. The suit says 'Upper Level,' but the smell says 'dead body.' Who are you?"
"Alex Mercer."
The room went silent. Razor's hand drifted to the pistol at his hip.
"The billionaire?" Wu laughed softly. "If you are Mercer, where is your security detail? Where is your arrogance?"
"I left them upstairs," I said. "I am currently being hunted by an assassin that I cannot stop. I have zero credits. I have no weapons. I am freezing to death. I came here because this is the only place in Sector 42 with reinforced walls."
Wu stared at me. The radical honesty seemed to short-circuit his interrogation script.
"You have no money?"
"None."
"Then why shouldn't I kill you and sell your organs? Your liver alone would cover the cost of the server damage your friend caused."
Mei tensed. I saw her weight shift to her back foot. She was calculating the jump distance to Razor. Probability of success: <5%.
I took a breath. The Brain Fog pulsed—a low, warning thrum. No lies.
"You shouldn't kill me," I said, "because I can make you richer than organ harvesting ever could."
"With what? You just said you have no money."
"Information."
Wu raised an eyebrow. "Information is cheap in the Mist. Everyone has secrets."
"Not like this," I said.
I looked at Razor.
In Loop 15, I had bought information from a rival gang. They had told me about a coup in the Red Lotus. A lieutenant who had been skimming profits to start his own crew.
I looked at the heavy gold ring on Razor's finger. I looked at the way he stood—too close to Wu, his eyes darting to the guards.
Pattern Recognition.
The Mist in the room seemed to sharpen. I didn't see ghosts this time. I saw tension lines. I saw the invisible thread of ambition connecting Razor to the gun on his hip. I saw the fear in his eyes when I looked at him.
"Your lieutenant," I said, pointing a shaking finger at Razor. "He is stealing from you."
Razor stiffened. "Boss, he's lying. He's delirious."
Wu didn't move. He kept peeling another lychee. "Go on."
"He's skimming 15% off the synth-drug shipments coming from the docks," I said. My voice gained strength. It wasn't a guess. It was a memory from a future that hadn't happened yet. "He alters the weight logs. He claims it's moisture loss."
"That's standard shrinkage!" Razor snapped, stepping forward. "Boss, let me silence him."
"Wait," Wu said. He looked at me. "Anyone can guess about skimming. Give me proof."
"I can't give you digital proof," I said. "I don't have a terminal."
"Then you die." Wu nodded to Razor. "Do it."
Razor drew his pistol.
"The proof is in his boot!" I yelled.
Razor froze.
"He keeps a backup ledger on a dedicated drive," I said rapidly. "In a hollow heel of his left combat boot. He doesn't trust the cloud. He keeps it physical. Check his left boot."
The silence in the room was deafening.
Razor's eyes went wide. It was a micro-expression, lasting less than a second, but it was a confession.
Wu saw it too.
"Razor," Wu said softly. "Take off your boot."
"Boss, this is insane. He's a corpo spy! He's trying to divide us!"
"Take. Off. The. Boot."
Razor hesitated. Then, with a snarl, he raised the gun—not at me, but at Wu.
Bang.
The shot went wide as the bouncer—the one from the door—slammed the butt of his shotgun into Razor's arm. The pistol skittered across the floor.
Two other guards tackled Razor, pinning him to the Persian rug.
Wu stood up, walking calmly around the desk. He crouched by the struggling lieutenant and yanked the left boot off. He slammed the heel against the floor. It didn't break.
He took a knife from his belt and pried the sole open.
A small, silver data chip fell out.
Wu picked it up. He looked at it, then at Razor, who had stopped struggling and was just staring at the ceiling.
"Moisture loss," Wu murmured.
He turned to me.
"Get this man a towel," Wu ordered the guards. "And some hot tea. The good stuff. From the pre-war stash."
Location: Guest Quarters, The Golden Carp
Time: 02:15 PM
I sat on a velvet sofa, wrapped in a thick wool blanket. A cup of jasmine tea steamed in my hands. The warmth was spreading through my chest, chasing away the numbness.
Mei was sitting opposite me, eating a bowl of noodles like she hadn't eaten in days. She had a new jacket—leather, slightly too big—courtesy of the Red Lotus.
"How did you know?" she asked, her mouth full. "About the boot?"
"I didn't," I said.
She paused. "You lied? But the Fog..."
"I didn't lie. In Loop 15, I bought Razor's loyalty. He showed me the chip. He bragged about it. He said, 'Always keep your leverage under your heel.'" I took a sip of tea. "I told Wu where the chip was. That is an objective fact."
Mei shook her head. "You're scary, Mercer. You weaponize the truth."
"It's the only weapon I have left."
The door opened. Wu walked in. He looked tired. There was a fresh bloodstain on his cuff.
"Razor has been... retired," Wu said. "You saved me a lot of trouble, Mr. Mercer. And a lot of money."
"Does that mean we're even?" I asked.
"For the intrusion? Yes." Wu poured himself a drink. "But for protection? No. You said an assassin is coming. If he is as dangerous as you say, my men will die defending you. That costs extra."
"I have no money," I repeated.
"I know. But you have that." Wu pointed to my head. "You know things. You see things."
He leaned forward.
"The Mist is changing. The gangs are getting restless. Something big is moving in the Upper Levels. I want you to tell me what happens next."
"I can't predict the future," I said. (Technically a lie? No, I can't predict it, I only remember failed versions of it).
"But you can predict people," Wu countered.
Boom.
The building shook. Dust fell from the ceiling.
"What was that?" Mei jumped up.
Wu's radio crackled. "Boss! Perimeter breach! The north wall... something just walked through the north wall!"
"Is it a vehicle?" Wu barked.
"No, Boss! It's a... it looks like a knight in black armor! Our rounds are bouncing off! He's—"
Static.
I stood up, the blanket falling from my shoulders.
"He's here," I said.
Wu looked at me, then at the door. He didn't look scared. He looked calculated.
"Is there any negotiation with this thing?" Wu asked.
"No," I said. "It's an algorithm. Its only command is delete."
Wu sighed. He pulled a heavy revolver from his desk drawer and checked the cylinder.
"I hate algorithms," Wu grunted. "Mei, take the back exit. The smuggler's tunnel leads to the Old Temple district."
"You're letting us go?" Mei asked.
"I'm protecting my investment," Wu said, nodding at me. "You owe me, Mercer. And the Red Lotus collects its debts. Now get out before I change my mind."
Constraint Update:
Time Elapsed: 7 hours / 24 hours.
Lies Told: 0.
Debts Incurred: 1 (Life debt to Uncle Wu).