Crushing the shortened cigarette against the tile, extinguishing its ember, Danang peered through the cracked window, checking the main street.

  Security forces had scattered the gangsters and Flesh Crucible grunts, annihilating the zealot mob with overwhelming firepower. Blood pools and scattered flesh were left to armored cleanup vehicles, while soldiers mechanically dispatched the still-breathing as if they were dust. They didn’t seem human.

  Better to stay hidden a bit longer. His current gear wouldn’t stand a chance against the soldiers—retaliation would be certain. Their mid-level high-tech weapons outclassed his undercity arsenal, an assault rifle prone to jams and misfires. Lighting a fresh cigarette, Danang exhaled thin purple smoke, glancing at Eve beside him.

  “…”

  Burying her face in her knees, silver hair veiling her expression, Eve said nothing. Danang stayed silent too, letting the cigarette’s leaves turn to ash. Heavy silence filled the room as he watched glittering dust float, sighing deeply.

  “Eve,” he said.

  “…What?” she replied.

  “Got anywhere to go?”

  “As if,” she said.

  “…I see.”

  A brief exchange, then silence. If Eve had a place to go, she’d have left the undercity. She wouldn’t have implanted Lumina in Danang or offered help. To mid-level residents, undercity folk were incomprehensible vermin, chaos-tainted flowers of evil. If—and it’s a big if—Eve was from the mid or upper city, her breakdown witnessing the earlier carnage would make sense.

  In this city, survival meant trampling, devouring, and seizing. Everyone was stained by evil, drenched in endless desires and sins. Eve was an anomaly—a blinding first-magnitude star. Her flowing silver hair, unblemished white skin, prismatic eyes, and flawless features stood out. Above all, she had something undercity folk lacked: a heart, or perhaps a spirit.

  She acted for a purpose, seeking tomorrow. Undercity dwellers didn’t dream of tomorrow, burning their lives for today. Danang was no exception—driven to avoid death, to keep living, yet unsure why. To a young man ignorant of true life or its meaning, Eve seemed unreachable, an alien presence in a distant place.

  Those who believed in something and acted for it walked their own paths. Even if devoted to a mission or role, their footsteps left traces that could change something. That’s why—to Danang, who only wished to live and not die—Eve, Rilse, and the old man who raised him shone so brightly.

  He wanted to give up because they were out of reach.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Living alone was enough.

  To avoid death, he killed, proving his strength.

  Weakness meant death. Strength meant survival.

  Resigning, hesitating, freezing his blood, pulling the trigger emotionlessly. Sadness, hatred, anger—none changed reality.

  Clenching his teeth, Danang crushed his cigarette roughly. “I… don’t get it,” he muttered, stroking his cold mechanical arm.

  “…Danang,” Eve said.

  “What?”

  “You said I looked like I was crying, right? But… to me, you’re the one crying. Like a kid abandoned by his parents, sobbing,” she said.

  “I’m not crying,” Danang snapped.

  “You are. Ever since… the first time we met,” Eve insisted.

  Rubbing his eyes with his mechanical arm, Danang saw skin flakes on the steel fingers and scoffed at her words.

  “Not crying,” he said.

  “I’m saying your heart’s crying,” she clarified.

  “Crying’s pointless. Will tears make an enemy’s gun miss? Will killers back off? No way. If we’re talking, you looked like you were crying too,” he countered.

  “Oh? How so?” Eve asked.

  “Lift your head and look at me,” Danang said.

  “No way,” she replied.

  Because this is how I feel right now, she said, her voice trembling slightly. Danang let out a sigh-laced chuckle. “Fair enough,” he said.

  Peering through the window again, he checked the security forces. Their numbers had thinned, armored vehicles gone, the street eerily calm, as if no conflict had occurred. Now was the chance to move. Glancing between Eve and a vagrant crawling from somewhere, Danang raised his gun and extended his hand.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “…”

  “I’m hitting the ruins tomorrow. Could use a hand. Help me out?”

  “…I don’t have a place to stay,” Eve said.

  “Crash at my place. You’ll share with Rilse, though,” he replied.

  “You don’t trust me, do you?” she asked.

  “…Like I said, lend a hand to a woman crying without tears. So, make me trust you, Eve. I’ll… try to be worth trusting too.”

  “…”

  Eyes red and swollen, tears glistening, Eve gripped Danang’s hand.

  “Don’t regret this, Danang,” she said, springing up.

  “So, what’s next? Got plans?” she asked.

  “Gonna buy food,” he replied.

  “Food? Those cans and jelly packs at your place… no, let’s skip those. They’re awful,” she said.

  “Yeah, Rilse hates the jelly packs too. That’s why I’m getting real food,” Danang said.

  Shooting a vagrant’s head and severing their neck with Heres, Danang used the hilt to smash the window, leaping out and leaning against the building’s outer wall.

  “Shopping? No way, not the Pleasure District again,” Eve protested.

  “Heading to the Commercial District. Food there’s usually laced with drugs or aphrodisiacs. Want your brain full of holes? Eat alone,” he warned.

  “Thanks for the tip,” she said dryly.

  Silencing an approaching soldier, Danang snapped his neck, stole his rifle, ammo, and goggles, then plugged his mechanical arm’s hack cable into the gear, rewriting its license authentication.

  Mid-level security forces were a threat, but not lab beasts or aliens. Hit their vitals, and they died easily. With skill and timing, their gear could be taken. Danang often seized soldier equipment, stashing spares at home.

  “If other soldiers notice—” Eve began.

  “Just watch,” Danang cut in.

  Tossing the soldier’s body back, vagrants and kids swarmed, stripping organs. Dumping it in a bin risked snitches, but letting a crowd dismantle it ensured silence—the soldier’s death buried in darkness.

  “Let’s go,” Danang said.

  “You’re the worst,” Eve muttered.

  “Use what works, even if it’s lives. You’re learning, Eve, but in the undercity, a life’s worth less than a bullet. Remember that,” he said.

  “This place is brutal,” she sighed, shrugging.

  Chasing Danang through the back alleys, Eve headed toward a neon-lit district distinct from the Pleasure District’s glow.