"Hatred might not stop a bullet, Daeng, but it’s the only thing keeping my legs moving right now," Ketsana said, his voice clipped as he snatched the waterproof folder off the rough-hewn wooden table. The damp air of the stilt house stuck to his skin like a wet blanket, but the cold sweat breaking out across his forehead had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the phantom itching behind his eyes—the ghost of a system UI that thankfully remained dark and silent. "If Sombat is even a minute late under that overpass, we pull back. But we are making the meet. We don't have another play."Noi shouldered her canvas satchel, the heavy wrench inside giving a dull, metallic clink against the spare drive casing. Her dark eyes swept over Ketsana’s pale, drawn face, lingering for a fraction of a second on the tremor in his fingers before she offered a tight, cynical smirk. "Look at you, all high and mighty. Three days ago you were rocking back and forth in the corner trying t

"You burned the jacket, sure, but what about the biometric shoe inserts they issued during the quarterly health audit?" Daeng asked, finally lifting his head, the amber light of the iron cutting harsh shadows across his gaunt cheeks. "Those things have passive RFID chips embedded in the soles. Every time you take a step, you're broadcasting your employee ID to any corporate receiver within a half-mile radius."Ketsana froze, his hand hovering over the zipper of his jacket. The sheer, terrifying weight of his own oversight hit him like a physical blow. "The shoes," he whispered, staring down at his scuffed leather boots as if they were venomous vipers waiting to strike. "I forgot about the quarterly health audit.""You forgot a lot of things when the System wiped your prefrontal cortex," Noi said sharply, stepping closer and jabbing a finger against his chest. "Take them off. Right now. We are not walking into an ambush with a tracking beacon strapped to your heels.""And walk barefoot

"Ugly as sin doesn't even begin to cover it, Daeng," Ketsana muttered, jamming his sock-clad feet into the oversized rubber sandals. They slapped against the splintered floorboards with a loose, awkward rhythm that felt entirely wrong. "If we have to run from a tactical squad, I'm going to trip over my own toes in the first ten meters.""Then don't trip," Noi said, already slinging her canvas strap across her shoulder and checking the heavy iron bolt of the stilt house exit. "And stop complaining about the fashion choices of the local dockworkers. Move."They slipped out into the thick, coastal fog that rolled off the harbor, swallowing the distant neon lights of the city and turning the sprawling network of wooden boardwalks into a maze of gray shadows. The air tasted of salt, diesel, and rotting seaweed—a heavy, choking cocktail that clung to the back of Ketsana's throat. Every step in the oversized sandals required an uncomfortable conscious effort, his ankles straining against the

"If we slow down, Somphone's goons are going to turn us into fertilizer, Ketsana," Noi whispered fiercely, not breaking her pace for a single second as she hooked a sharp left around a corrugated iron wall. "I didn't carry this hardware across three districts just to watch you lose a shoe-tying contest in the middle of a mudflat.""I am not losing a shoe," Ketsana panted, his foot sliding sideways in the oversized rubber sandal as he skidded across a patch of slick algae on the wood. "The shoe is actively trying to divorce me. There is a fundamental design flaw in giving a programmer footwear intended for a freight elephant.""Then walk like an elephant," Daeng wheezed from behind them, his shoulder slamming hard against a wooden support post with a hollow thump that rattled the corrugated roof overhead. He caught himself, grabbing a rusty handrail, his face pale and slick with sweat. "Or better yet, just stop breathing so loudly, Ketsana. You sound like a punctured steam valve.""I a

"Your sandals are the least of our problems," Noi snapped, her eyes darting through the shifting curtains of mist toward the flickering amber glow of a streetlamp three turnoffs down the alley. "Look at the corner. Someone's cutting across the timber bridge."Sombat shoved the waterproof folder deeper beneath his soaked jacket, his jaw tightening into a hard, linear grimace. "Move. Now. If they catch us with these plates and manifests before the morning broadsheet hits the streets, we aren't just dead—we never existed."Ketsana clenched his teeth, ignoring the burning friction of the oversized rubber sandals against his blistered heels, and forced his legs into a low, ground-eating stride. Behind him, Daeng muttered a frantic string of code-slang prayers, his boots thudding against the wet planks with a hollow rhythm that seemed to echo off every corrugated tin wall in the district. The fog rolled in thicker from the tidal flats, swallowing the dim amber light and wrapping the labyrin