The very air seemed to sizzle and crackle with the soft sputtering of electricity from a half-torn- no, cut power line. A bustling crowd moved about the cracked and broken pavement, uncaring about gunfire echoing off the background. Their faces were drawn into hard lines, each a mask not all that different from a corpo smile.

Despite the decay and desolation, the surrounding community had a sense of resilience. In a way, I felt more at home here than 'safer' places of the city I had been. It almost reminded me of the Ryu Container Yard.

There was a heavy Crusade presence in the area. This close to the Scath Heights, they made sure that nothing encroached on more land. As if the Heights weren't segregated from the city enough. It was like a DMZ between two hostile nations rather than just another sub-district.

Joy-toy holograms danced and twirled in an attempt to entice the citizens with their movements, not even caring that most people had grown immune to such shallow acts. Soft music played from a nearby vendor's cart, completely at odds with the heavy feeling from the long shadows of worn-out and bespeckled buildings. The chef casually flipped some kind of noodle dish into a bowl, not caring about the chaos around him.

The city's sky-tram drove through, casting long shadows on us plebeians. Neon lights flickered defiantly from their perches. The train hung from its rails without seeming to notice the small acts and ultimately meaningless acts of defiance. It moved, suspended just a few stories up, and traveled at a rapid pace out of the area.

A scent toyed across my nose, evoking an exotic feeling as if heavy spices moved through the area recently. It was an incredibly odd scent, especially considering the destitute state of East End. Unfortunately, it was short-lived before the ambient stench of burning drugs and piss overpowered it once more. Smog played an unseen undercurrent, just as prevalent as the coppery tang of blood caught in the back of my throat.

A breeze blew with a sticky humidity that came from the turn of the season. Winter had long passed, and spring was giving way to summer. Not that it mattered much for us on the streets. It wasn't like spring would actually bring about plants or anything of the sort. At most, there'd just be a bunch more rats running through the city.

I checked the message from Carone. Chek, this was the right place. Night Market should be around here somewhere in a half-finished arcology called Gehenna Housing. It was hard to miss. The thing was gargantuan, and probably would've housed tens of thousands had it been finished, bringing about new life to this area. Now, it was a den of crime, squatters, and apparently a Night Market for the next several days.

I glanced around, eyes catching on the various blood stains scattered about the broken pavement of the street. My hand rested on the SB-17 strapped to my neck just in case. I tracked a streak of dry blood, spotting a woman who'd been shot several times and left to rot just at the mouth of an alley. A couple of days old, maybe.

Several others were in the alley, all as deceased as the last. Most looked more like OD's than the murder- or maybe self-defense? Hard to tell, not that I cared enough to look into it. Slab Co's trucks hadn't come by yet, so they max two weeks old. I averted my eyes. 'Couldn't solve everything...

The cold steel of my rifle felt comforting in my grip. I'd felt foolish for wanting to bring it at first, but East End wasn't the most civil part of the city. And the unfinished arcology sat way too close to the heights for comfort. It was a good deterrent if nothing else.

Maybe I should've bought some backup? I was far from good at combat, so even with better guns that didn't guarantee my survival. I shoulda called Mira… too late now though. I was already here.

Hopefully, it wouldn't be a problem. Probably be was best to keep my wits about and make exit strategies. I already had a few planned based on the blueprints of the original structure, but there was no telling how accurate they were considering the state of the arcology.

I took a breath, and entered the front door of Gehenna Housing. The scent of half-decomposed bodies hidden under the overpowering scent of Happy smacked me in the face. It was a drug known to cause extreme pleasure, so much so that users often suffered strokes.

I tried to breathe as little of it as possible as I glanced around. Maybe I should get a mask? Several armed guards- rather, gangers that tried to look like armed guards, stood around the entryway. They were just kids in patchwork clothing marked with a shattered red heart.

Did a gang control the abandoned arcology? It'd make a good spot for a stronghold, I guess. Maybe even turned it into a drug lab or den based of the overwhelming scent of Happy.

The young guards were incredibly tense, especially when spotting my rifle. Several of them seemed to calm down at seeing my face though, causing me to consider getting a mask for a different reason. My face wasn't exactly conducive to intimidation.

I flashed my phone, showing a verification image that Carone sent me last night. Several stars formed a constellation of some kind, looking a bit like an off-rectangle. I wished I could see actual stars, but pictures like this one would have to do the job. Not like I could single-handedly clean out the atmosphere.

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One of the kids, his skin a dull olive and incredibly dry, spoke up for the group like the leader. He jacked his thumb to a set of stairs. "Market 's on the third floor. Don' go snoopin', and there won' be problems, lady."

I gave a glance over the surroundings, noticing several people hiding in shadowy alcoves and under thick blankets like they were hobos. Several more sat around, not even trying to hide as they smoked. Probably senior members of the gang using the youngsters as bait. It was an unfortunately common tactic to get a slag kid trying to prove something to act as fodder. Then, if they lived long enough, they would grow to be chrome-domes doing the same to a new generation.

What was the relationship between the gang and the market? Did they host the Market? Hmm… unlikely. It was probably an act of mutual benefit. The market was set up here to gain the gang's protection, and the gang would get a chance to make some extra profit from the higher-than-normal amount of people moving through the area.

I moved to the stairs the kid pointed out and went up several sets. For once, I wasn't even a bit winded upon reaching the top. My recent activities were finally paying off. I followed the direction from a few other gangers until I reached a dozen different guards standing in front of the door.

These guard were far more intimidating, and all wearing the same sets of gear. Looked closer to PMCs than anything. They each had a patch of stars set in the same roughly square pattern, just like the Constellation Night Market's logo. It seemed the Night Market wasn't as simple as I thought it would be if they had their own PMCs.

I flashed the image on the phone once more. One of the guards handed me a small metallic card. It had the same image on it, though this one seemed far more detailed, like a full night's sky... it really must've been a wonder to see the stars so long ago. "Don't lose this. We don't offer seconds, and it's your pass to the next market. Just scan it with your phone."

"Right." I slipped the card into a hidden pocket in my jacket. They opened a door, letting me through.

The Night Market itself was in a massive half-finished ballroom of sorts. Market stalls covered the entire area, and thousands of voices were raised in barter. Even at a glance, I could see people of all types and walks of life perusing the thousands of products offered by individual sellers.

So this was a Night Market… I'd heard of them and knew they existed, 'course, but this was my first time entering one. I really was making my way up in the world, for better or worse. What was next? Going into the corporate quarter on a daily basis? Joining the Blue Crusade? Heh…

I entered the Night Market proper and passed by the stalls set up by various merchants, each offering an array of items. About half of everything looked made in a factory, and the other half looked handmade. There was everything from guns and roses to industrial-grade machinery on offer.

Most of the stuff looked incredibly intriguing, and I was half tempted to buy something several times. Before getting anything though, I needed to guarantee on that printer. It would suck to buy something, and then be too broke to afford the one thing I came here for.

I walked around for a while, passing by an area covered in explosives and guns, an area that looked like a food court was set up, and even a section filled with caged beasts. Really had a little bit of everything on offer here. The food area, in particular, almost made me cave and get a snack. I barely managed to hold strong.

Eventually I stumbled across a rather large stall set up in a secluded corner of the deteriorated ballroom. A massive variety of tools, machinery, and weapons were set up on racks.

The merchant behind it all? He stood there dark and menacing. A nearly featureless mask covered his face. Six glowing eyes peeked out of the mask. A Magus, maybe? Crow's sprites had more than just two pairs of eyes.

"Ah, chumata! Come, come, view Suvroc's wares. I'm sure I have what you are looking for, and if I don't? I know who does!" The guy's voice was high-pitched and full of excitement.

"I'm looking for a printer. You have one?" I looked through the hundreds of boxes around his massive stall, impressed by the sheer amount of merchandise this Suvroc had.

"Do I! Something simple like a paper printer? Or maybe an ASCorp Metal Printer? Perhaps a KairoTech Multi-Medium one? Or something a bit cheaper, say a Softworks Plastic Printer?" He twisted his hand, causing several boxes to float off the shelves.

I flicked on Aetherial Perception, eyeing the Aether. It trembled with each of his movements as some spell went off. Some kind of telekinesis, maybe? No sprites, so he must've been an Adept. There must be a hidden wand somewhere in his gloves to cast magic this effortlessly. Weird. What was up with the Crow mask then?

I looked through the boxes he showed, noting their pristine condition. They looked entirely untouched, which was damn impressive considering how filthy this place was. "The Softworks one."

"Right away, chumata." Most of the boxes went back to their locations. One in particular flew through the air and settled on the table. The top of it popped open, allowing me to get a good view of the merchandise. It was in perfect shape, not even taken out of its packaging.

"I'll give you a thousand for it." It was a fair price according to what I'd seen on the Net.

The man raised his hand to his chest and curved backward. "You insult the great Suvroc! This machine in its prime like this one is worth at least twelve hundred. You won't find a fairer price elsewhere!"

"But I'll have to put it together myself. Eleven thousand since its in pieces." Ugh- my bartering skills could use some work. 'I have to put it together'? What a poor direction to attack from.

Another box floated from the background, this one far smaller than the printer. He popped it open to reveal several rolls of plastic filament. "Look, twelve hundred fifty and I'll even throw in a bulk order of supplies needed to run the printer for free. It's a great deal!"

I hadn't thought of that. I'd been so focused on getting a printer in the first place that I completely overlooked the fact that I'd need resources to actually print with… "Fine."

"Nova!" The man waved his hand and both boxes flew to the table. A board floated up behind him, illuminated by a neon light strip that twirled around it. The board had the guy's payment information.

I fed it to my phone and transferred the Rayn, feeling slightly bitter that I hadn't managed to talk down the price point at all. Wait a second, had the price gone up? What the fuck? Damn, I really needed to work on my bartering skills. The printer cost me twelve hundred and fifty in total, which wasn't ideal. That left me at just over thirty-five hundred, not including the money I still owed Feras.

"It was a pleasure, miss." The guy turned to a new customer.

"Yeah, yeah." I stacked the boxes up and carried them to the door. Definitely should've brought back- if only to carry the boxes. Now I know for next time.

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