Rain in Silver City didn’t wash things clean; it just made the grime on the streets slicker, reflecting the neon agony of a city that never slept. But inside the Director’s office on the top floor of Silver City General, the atmosphere was colder than the storm raging outside. "Silas Thorne, effective immediately, your employment with this hospital is terminated." Director Miller, a portly man whose suit strained against his midsection, didn't even look up. His eyes were glued to the document on his mahogany desk, the termination letter. Silas stood rigid in the center of the room, his fists clenched at his sides until his knuckles turned bone-white. "This is insanity," Silas said, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "You know the truth, sir. You saw the logs. I didn't nick that artery. I was the one clamping it! I was the one who kept the patient from bleeding out on the table!" "Watch your tone, nurse," a smooth, arrogant voice cut in from the leather sofa in the co

Silas walked until his muscles burned. He was far from the hospital now, deep in the residential district of Oakhaven. It wasn't the slums, but it certainly wasn't the Heights either. It was a place for the working class.His stomach growled, a feral sound that reminded him of his current reality. He had saved the life of a billionaire CEO just an hour ago, yet he didn't have a single penny to buy a hotdog.“Your body is refining the energy you stole,” Victor’s voice echoed in his mind, sounding bored. “But biological processes require calories. You need food. And for that, you need money.”"Tell me something I don't know," Silas muttered, pulling up his damp collar.He turned a corner and saw a moving truck parked in front of a two-story house. A middle-aged couple was arguing on the lawn, surrounded by piles of cardboard boxes and discarded furniture."I told you, Martha! We don't have room for this junk in the new condo!" the husband shouted, tossing a rusted metal box onto a pile

"You want to break my bones?" Silas repeated softly.Mrs. Higgins snorted, flicking her cigarette butt into a dirty puddle. "You heard me, Rat. Boys, teach him some manners."One of the bouncers stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.Silas didn't back down. Instead, he laughed, a dry, humorless sound.Slowly, Silas reached into his pocket. "I was thinking of paying off my arrears tonight and getting a good night's sleep. But since you went through the trouble of throwing my belongings into the street..."Silas pulled his right hand out.Under the dim streetlights, the cash looked incredibly conspicuous. Four hundred dollars, the "tax" from the Viper Gang earlier, rolled neatly. And tucked between the bills was the corner of a shimmering ten-thousand-dollar bank check.Mrs. Higgins’s eyes went wide instantly. Pure greed replaced the arrogance on her face. She made a quick hand gesture, signaling her bouncers to halt."Wait," Mrs. Higgins said, her voice shifting into a fabricated swee

The night grew deeper in the apartment within The Rust District. An empty pizza box lay on the floor, right next to the duct-tape line separating Silas and Nova’s territories.Nova was still typing with inhuman speed on her sticker-bomb laptop. The cooling fan was whirring loudly, struggling to process the data."This is useless," Nova muttered in frustration. She slammed the laptop lid halfway shut.Silas, who was lying on his thin foam mattress on the floor, turned his head. "What’s the problem?"Nova spun her chair around to face Silas. Her expression was deadly serious behind her thick-rimmed glasses."If I want to hide your digital footprint from 'The Black Ledger' and those bounty hunters, I need a stronger weapon. This potato laptop can't fight military-grade encryption, Silas. Their firewalls will eat my processor alive in ten minutes."Nova let out a harsh sigh. "We need a new Rig. There’s a custom model on the black market called a 'Ghost Server'. It’s the only way to make y

Across the street, a sleek black sedan with tinted windows sat idling. The engine purred softly, emitting a thin wisp of smoke from its dual exhaust pipes.The car doors opened in unison.Three men in black suits stepped out. They weren't police. They were too well-groomed, too muscular, and their sunglasses concealed the cold gaze of predators. Transparent earpieces were tucked into their ears.Sterling Corp Agents."Dammit," Silas cursed under his breath.One of the agents, a man with a buzz cut and a thin scar on his cheek, stepped forward to block their path on the sidewalk. He didn't look at Nova or Mr. Vance. His eyes were locked on Silas."Mr. Thorne," the agent said. His voice was flat, emotionless, like an automated answering machine. "We are from Sterling Corporation. Miss Seraphina requires you to come with us."Silas’s heart hammered against his ribs.His mind flashed back to the incident at the hospital. He had touched the Grand Miss Sterling. He had made her... react in