Troping the Bergie Web for a few lame thrills, i dive into the deep for local, state and federal conspiracy to see what my idiot government is up to. Of course proxy and tor are essential. I do some sniffing and find my way into a closed system. On the surface it’s just some oldsckool 2008R2 but quickly i realise I’ve been redirected into a dummy cloud.
I pull back on the dive and do a systems check on my VR trodes. Shock protection check, multiple catch pockets check, i’m ready as i’ll ever be. I hope i get to see her again, the mystery Woman everybody talks about.
Yes… I knew it was a smokescreen. I enter the Virus soup. Lots have dickheads have found their way in. I’m constantly being attacked but most don’t have the tech i’m carrying.
There are fingerprints of her work everywhere here. Evidence of government and corporate corruption, videos of lame sex acts toppled with some of the truly the darkest shit humanity can conjure.
A virus directs my attention to a male cyborg jacking into another male cyborg whilst fucking a cyborg puppy where none of the implants appear to be necessary for survival. Ew… They all just exploded.
Back on the road… I use my polymeric falcighol derivation and fathom my way into the Primarch. It’s just one of many gateways… Most people think this is the be all and end all of the connected world but there is another level and only she will let you in if she finds you worthy. Peeps are calling it the “Golden Trove”.
I know who she is, i say her real name… And i’m booted. FUCK!
The Cunt burnt out my trodes. It’s gonna cost me fifty grand just to get the basics again. Time to see the Dream Weaver… Maybe he can lend me the crypto to get back on top of this. I’ll do some B&E jobs for him, he’s always looking for wet waxors to do jobs on the side. I heard he alone bought down some major corps but nothing like what i saw in there with Machete Girl. She may have burned me the fuck out but she didn’t touch my memory. Perhaps that was on purpose. I have enough info stored to spend weeks sifting through the data burst.
I locate a file… It reads: //meet at the Hijaku Club, your name is already on the door// I sit back in my filthy couch i use for masturbating. Satan H Bomb Christ. She knows my name. She must have been tracking me from the outset. I never thought i tripped any alarms but then again this is Machete Girl we are talking about. OMG i actually get to meet her.
The Hijaku club was the hardest club to get into in Tokyo, possibly the world. It’s rumoured to be a place for billionaires and above, level 8 citizens only.
I sit back in my couch, slip my fingers around my clitoral hood, and think about how i’m going to fuck her.