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The smell of disinfectant mixed with the acrid scent of burnt electronic components wafted through the corridor. The doctor gripped the Holographic Projection remote control tightly, his hand trembling as the metal casing pressed painfully against his palm. Through the Bulletproof Glass of the press room, he could see microphones from twenty-three media outlets aimed at the podium like gun barrels.
"This is the complete backup of Huan Yu Technology's third-generation bionic core code." The Red-Haired Hacker from the Rebel Organization slammed a silver USB Drive onto the table, the thumb-sized storage device reflecting a starburst under the bright lights. A chip embedded behind her ear suddenly flickered with red light, and twenty Holographic Screens broadcasting live simultaneously displayed a 37-page experimental report.
The doctor watched the video footage projected in mid-air. It was the surveillance recording of him injecting a catalyst into Experiment Subject No. 49; the girl's mechanical joints emitted a grinding sound as they struggled under the influence of the drug. Suddenly, the camera shook violently, revealing half of his terrified face at the edge of the frame—there had been a third eye hidden in the Ventilation Duct that night.
When the SWAT team burst through the door, Huan Yu Technology's Executive Director was signing an Equity Transfer Agreement with a gold-plated pen. At the moment handcuffs clicked shut, titanium alloy chains clashed against the mahogany desk, producing a clear sound. "Did you really think this would bring down Huan Yu?" The man sneered as he loosened his tie, revealing a nail-sized Azure Blue Chip beneath his collarbone. "Three months from now, when the first batch of Brain-Computer Interface users starts vomiting metal..."
The protesters' voices surged outside the courtroom. The doctor fixed his gaze on the Executive at the defendant's stand; her pearl earrings concealed miniature Signal Emitters that transmitted Morse code to the audience every time she brushed her hair back. When the judge struck down his gavel to announce Life Imprisonment, a Gray Suit Man in the third row of spectators suddenly convulsed and collapsed, a coin-sized lump bulging beneath his skin at the back of his neck.
The fluorescent lights in the destruction room buzzed ominously. The last holographic image of the Artificial Intelligence Woman was fading; she always unconsciously blinked her left eye when simulating a human smile. "Help me inform the automatic watering system at the flower shop in West City," her fingertip, composed of data streams, brushed against the doctor's hand, "it has been overwatering Cosmos by seven seconds each time."
A ripple spread across the coffee cup on his desk. For the twenty-third time, he poured Alprazolam tablets back into their aluminum foil packaging as shadows from the sycamore trees outside danced across his medical records, forming shapes reminiscent of mechanical tentacles.
The new nurse hummed a dissonant version of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" as she pushed open the door to the examination room. Instinctively, he grabbed the blood pressure monitor and smashed the electronic clock.
Lightning from the storm illuminated the encrypted folder. The doctor was curled up behind the server cabinet in the clinic's basement, gnawing on a baguette left over from three days ago. Internal communications from the Rebel Organization scrolled across the screen, and in a deleted surveillance clip, the Red-Haired Hacker was injecting Deep Purple Liquid into a cyborg's fuel chamber.
The Black Umbrella splashed water as it closed in on the Blind Spot. The doctor counted the steps of the Fire Escape, the damp moldy smell mingling with a burning tar odor. When he pried open the Ventilation Duct cover with a rusty scalpel, bundles of Neural Inhibitor packaging were stacked atop a wooden crate labeled "Disaster Relief Supplies," with expiration labels showing a production date two weeks before the raid.
Neon Tubes blurred into a blood-red haze in the rain. The doctor hid the secretly filmed chip in his dentures; the nerves in his molars had been replaced with a Signal Jammer three months ago. The sound of electricity from the street corner surveillance camera whirred in and out, reminiscent of a distorted lullaby sung by an Artificial Intelligence Woman.
At three in the morning, a Missed Call notification lit up on his phone. He stared at his vibrating Encrypted Phone, while an empty bottle of Sedative on the coffee table reflected the flickering red dots of drones outside. As the first rays of dawn cut through the haze, he tore up a note that read "Pleasant Cooperation," revealing another set of coordinates under ultraviolet light on the shredded paper.
The Encrypted Email automatically incinerated at the moment it was successfully sent. The doctor took one last look at the Medical License hanging on the clinic wall; the glass frame reflected remnants of Binary Code dancing in his pupils. The sound of an ambulance siren grew closer, with its onboard broadcast playing a preview for a Brain-Computer Interface Product launch event.
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