The man calling himself Gloria could be summed up as a golden lion piercing the darkness. His golden hair swayed like silken threads in still air, his sharp eyes reminiscent of a meteor streaking the night sky. His features were perfectly balanced, yet his small face carried an oddly oppressive presence. Dressed in a pristine white double-breasted suit, a large-sleeved coat draped over his shoulders, the youth extended a hand to Danan, slumped on the ground, flashing a smile that revealed gleaming white teeth.
“You’re pretty banged up… Can you stand?” Gloria asked.
“…”
“From your look, I’d guess mercenary, soldier… or someone tied to combat. Come on, take my hand.”
“Shut up,” Danan snapped.
Brushing Gloria’s hand away, Danan leaned against the wall, standing. His dark eyes locked onto the youth as he spat blood from his mouth.
“Need a guide? Don’t make me laugh… Wandering the undercity, the pleasure district no less, all alone? Gloria, was it? Worry about yourself before spouting pretty words. Or maybe you don’t need to… Guys like you always have bodyguards trailing, don’t they?”
Not a speck of dust on the pure white suit, no mud or blood on the tailored coat, polished words backed by perfect teeth… Gloria was likely a mid-city elite. How could Danan, from a different world, relate? Dragging his feet, body aching with fatigue, he gritted his teeth, his mechanical arm creaking.
“Hey, you,” Gloria called.
“Shut it, mid-city rich boy. Go back upstairs. Speak again, and I’ll smash that pretty face to bits.”
Gloria, silenced by Danan’s venomous words, shrugged and shook his head. Pointing his cane toward the street, he nodded slightly. “You shouldn’t go out there now.”
“…”
Pausing, Danan caught Gloria in his peripheral vision. In the alleys, Cleaners torched vagrants with flamethrowers, vacuuming soot into dissolution tanks. On the neon-drenched main street, prostitutes danced wildly, and Damocles strutted. If spotted, a fight was inevitable. Forward or back—both paths led to hell. A strange silence hung between Danan and Gloria.
“You’re cautious, huh? Good call. Stopping was the right move,” Gloria said.
“…”
“Trust me or don’t, your call. But… if I want your trust, let’s make a deal that’s fair, beneficial to both. How about it? Help me reach my destination, and I’ll ensure you leave the pleasure district safely, in one piece. Not a bad offer, right?”
Stolen story; please report.
No deal could be that convenient. Escorting a mid-city elite offered no guarantee of loyalty. Humming fingers on his mechanical arm, Danan aimed his assault rifle at Gloria, breathing shallowly.
“Destination? Here to score drugs or women?” he asked.
“Nope,” Gloria replied.
“Meeting Aeshma? Better not. That mad whore will eat you alive.”
“No interest.”
“Then what? Why are you here, talking to me? Don’t you think it’s a waste of time?”
“Not at all. I’m just… sightseeing.”
“Sightseeing?” Danan scoffed.
“Yeah, sightseeing. I’m kind of a big deal in mid-city, you know. Sometimes I want to visit a place where no one knows Gloria. Sure, it’s risky, but every trip yields something. Meeting someone your age—lucky, don’t you think?”
“Ridiculous,” Danan muttered.
“Yeah, I hear that a lot.”
Impossible to read. Every attempt to probe was deflected, not a single solid answer. Finger on the trigger, Danan slowly squeezed, glaring as Gloria shed his coat, stepping closer.
“Don’t come near,” Danan warned.
“Relax, I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Shoot you—” Before the words left his mouth, Danan fired. The bullet grazed Gloria’s cheek, shattering the concrete wall.
Behind Danan, a steel giant peered into the alley. Drawn by the gunshot, Damocles, the rogue titan, frowned, scratching his jaw with electromagnetic claws before vanishing into the neon glow, his heavy mechanical steps echoing.
“…”
“Close call, huh?” Gloria said.
“Why’d you help me?” Danan demanded.
“Does helping need a reason? I wanted to, so I did.”
“…”
Gloria’s coat was a custom job, embedded with recognition-jamming and sensor-disrupting tech. While wearing it, he was invisible to others—even Damocles’ biosensors and cybernetic eyes. Using this tech to save Danan from certain death, Gloria wiped cold sweat, chuckling lightly. “That chilled my blood, though.”
“How do you know I’m being hunted by Damocles?” Danan asked.
“From watching your fights. I was elsewhere then, but… he’s that rogue leader, right? A steel giant chasing you? That’s rough.”
“…”
Danan didn’t trust Gloria, not by a long shot. Their bond was flimsy at best. But… that coat was useful. Kill him, take it. Pressing the rifle’s muzzle to Gloria’s gut, Danan’s eyes burned with murderous intent, only to hear, “Killing me’s not smart.”
“The coat’s functions are tied to my brainwaves. Kill me, steal it—it’s just a fancy rag. So, let’s work together. You get me to my destination, I guarantee your safety. Great deal, no?”
“…”
Lowering the rifle, Danan clicked his tongue. Gloria sighed in relief.
“Where to?” Danan asked.
“Finally get it, huh? Great! It’s a bar in the pleasure district. A friend’s there, got some business.”
“Name?”
“Gloria.”
“Not yours, idiot. The bar’s name.”
“Just a little joke, no need to snap…”
Sighing deeply, exasperated, Gloria leaned in and whispered, “Hydro de Benzene.”
“…You serious?” Danan asked.
“Dead serious.”
“That’s no place for a rich boy like you.”
“I’m not there to play. Just meeting a friend, handling business. So, you in or out? Be straight with me.”
“…”
The “bar” was more like the pleasure district’s largest entertainment complex—a twisted paradise. Hesitating, Danan sighed. “Don’t blame me if it goes south.”
“You’ll take me?” Gloria asked.
“Temporary alliance. To get me out of this district.”
“Appreciate it… uh, name?”
“Danan. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Alright, Danan, let’s do this.”
With a light handshake, they turned to the main street. Their destination: Hydro de Benzene—the district’s carcinogen, a malignant tumor. They stepped toward the glowing malice, the cesspool of sunken sins.
