Chapter 17: Emma

The only time Emma felt truly alive each week was on the way to the club.

The jarring drop in her social standing following the recent upheaval made her feel as though she could no longer fit into the city’s “high society.” She maintained an air of reserve while desperately craving validation. As the wife of Hands, a former corporate executive, Emma knew a thing or two about the weight of “status.” Back then, life had felt like a dream; she loved freedom, and freedom was exactly what Hands had given her.

But now? Freedom was a stranger to her. She was confined within a cage meticulously constructed by Hands, forced to be on guard against his enemies and everything else besides. Westbrook was the best option for a “disgraced” wife like her; the elites of Charter Hill and North Oak still viewed it as an ideal enclave—or, in other words, a suitable substitute for the Corporate Plaza.

The Thrax 388 Jefferson limousine was a dazzling gold, Emma’s favorite color. The car crossed the bridge over the river from Kabuki. After exiting the ramp and driving along Japantown, the ride smoothed out. Emma smoothed her hair, ensuring she looked utterly flawless.

Hands’ business was massive now; both Pacifica and Dogtown had to show him respect. Yet, financial pressure was not what Emma resented about him—it was the social standing. After all, no matter how powerful a fixer became, he was still just a middleman who set up jobs; it was hardly prestigious.

“Madam, we have arrived.”

The bodyguard kept his eyes on the road. Once the car entered Japantown, the heavy foot traffic forced them to slow to a crawl. Emma nodded. “Good. As long as we are on time.”

She savored the way those around her stared at her vehicle. Corporate suits and businessmen were always eager to drive fine cars through Westbrook, provided they could afford the bodyguards needed to keep the damn Moxes or Tyger Claws from spray-painting their rides.

*Screech—*

Emma’s body tilted slightly. The bodyguard caught her expressionless face in the rearview mirror.

“Madam, some damn brat ran in front of the car, the mother—”

Emma held up a hand, silencing him. She detested foul language. Outside the one-way bulletproof glass, a young man in an oversized leather jacket, carrying a large rifle wrapped in a gun bag, bowed his head with a warm, apologetic smile.

Emma rested her chin on her hand, waiting for the light to change; she didn’t mind looking at a handsome man. She knew that modern ripperdocs could give anyone whatever appearance they desired, but most people’s styles were bold and avant-garde—protruding optics, mechanical patterns etched across half their faces. This guy, with his deep eyes, sharp features, and subtly placed cybernetic textures, actually appealed to her aesthetic.

“Well, it seems Japantown is finally developing some taste.”

The bodyguard kept his mouth shut. On his first day, he had been explicitly told not to converse with the Madam.

The young man vanished around the corner, and Emma looked away.

“What is it, darling?” Emma spoke into her phone in fluent, crisp French.

“Things aren’t very peaceful lately. You shouldn’t be out.”

Emma let out a cold laugh. “Oh? And did I cause some brat to embarrass you? Mr. Hands, my dear, your problems should not be projected onto me. Remember, the child raised by the medical facility is the greatest concession I have ever made. I am a firm believer in remaining child-free.”

The man on the other end sighed helplessly. “Fine, fine. Whatever makes you happy. But I will send a team of bodyguards to follow you; nothing is more important than your safety.”

Emma hung up, feeling the stifling irritation in her chest grow. Living with a serious, traditional German man when you were also a serious, traditional German woman was like eating Italian stew without salt—colorful, yet utterly bland. She even fantasized about a mercenary roughly kidnapping her one day, just so Hands would have to send people to rescue her. At the very least, it would be a change of scenery.

As for the braindance club, it was just a performance—a way to let everyone know she was still spirited and that nothing was amiss.

As the only skyscraper in Japantown, the club was a favorite for Arasaka’s celebrations, offering high security. The braindance club occupied the top floor. Emma waited for her bodyguard to open the door, then stepped out, steadying herself in a long gown from a high-end boutique in the Corporate Plaza that accentuated her silhouette.

“Tell Hands’ people not to stand around like fools waiting by the elevator upstairs.”

Emma had decided: she was going to drink until she forgot everything.

She glanced up at the building. A pop star, Lizzy Wizzy, emerged from a flashy sports car nearby. She was daring, her cybernetic features pronounced. A sprite of the stage, her performances went beyond “imagination” and were filled with wild creativity.

“Madam, that dress is absolutely stunning.”

Dogtown’s funds had been used to back this popular star. As the wife of a Dogtown mystery man, Wizzy knew how to flatter a woman. Emma raised her “mask of composure,” donned a flawless smile, and walked into the club amidst the chatter of the socialites.

The bodyguard’s tense back relaxed. He drove the car to the back entrance, where he would eventually pick up the Madam to return to Dogtown.

*Damn, stupid woman. My bonus is getting docked again this month.*

It wasn’t his fault he’d had to brake; it was because of that idiot! The bodyguard grumbled to himself. Then again, the way the Madam had stared at that punk—she was definitely a nympho. There was no helping it; the Madam held a grudge, and every sudden brake cost him 300 eddies. He had to take it, like it or not.

Wait, wasn’t that the brat?

The young man was crouching by a steaming manhole cover in the distance. The bodyguard wore a cruel smile. Wouldn’t it be easy to get his 300 eddies back?

Lin Yue watched the bodyguard step out of the car from the corner of his eye. There were cameras over there; it wouldn’t be easy to make a move.

*Right, come a little closer.*

Lin Yue watched with interest as the bodyguard marched toward him, fists clenched. It was the perfect chance to test his new cyberware; the brawling techniques he’d learned in Dogtown weren’t for nothing.

“Damn it, stop right there, you little rat.”

Lin Yue stood up, palms out, looking innocent, just as the bodyguard grabbed him by the collar with a powerful jerk.

“You dog-f***er, do you have any idea how much you cost me?”

“Huh? I don’t know you,” Lin Yue said, backing away slowly. In the middle of the scuffle, they moved into a blind spot where the cameras couldn’t see them.

“One thousand eddies. Hand it over. If you want to call the NCPD, I guarantee you’ll be on the ground before they even arrive,” the bodyguard snarled.

Lin Yue grabbed the bodyguard’s wrist. “Hey, take it easy.”

With a surge of immense strength, the bodyguard’s face shifted as he realized the guy in front of him was far too strong. He reached for his holster, but Lin Yue pinned his hand down.

*Is it just me, or is Lin Yue handling this too easily? Is the cyberware Vic gave me really this powerful? It wasn’t even high-grade... Mostly, this guy is just pathetic. That must be it!*

He delivered a knee strike followed by a sharp elbow to the side of the bodyguard’s head. With a sickening crunch, the bodyguard, who had been hoping for a little extra cash, collapsed.

Lin Yue dragged the guy into a nearby alley, swapped into his suit, fished a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and covered the man with some old newspapers once he was dressed.

On the camera feed, the bodyguard, head bowed and smoking, walked back to Emma’s car and sat inside. Seeing nothing amiss, the camera panned away.