The car was a mess, empty ramen bowls, greasy takeout boxes, and chocolate wrappers scattered across the floor and corners. Lora sat in the driver’s seat, tablet in hand, muttering under her breath.

"Where the hell are you now..."

Her fingers fumbled over the seat until they found a half-eaten chocolate bar. She took a bite just as someone banged on the hood.

"OI, FUCKER!" a man shouted, slamming his fist against the car.

Lora’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Puto," she hissed, shoving her door open. The tablet landed in the passenger seat as she stormed toward him.

"What’s your deal, man?!" she snapped, shoving him by the chest.

The guy stumbled back, glaring. Lora blinked, recognizing something familiar about him.

"My deal?" he barked, stepping closer. Her hand instinctively brushed against the holster on her hip.

"Shit..." she muttered under her breath.

"Where’s my payment, bitch?" he roared, pointing a finger at her.

"Ah, hah... look, Piero, maybe we can talk about installments?" she said, taking a slow step back. Her heel hit the curb near a fire hydrant. "It’s just—what? A couple thousand?"

"Not just a couple," Piero growled, pulling out a knife. The blade gleamed under the streetlight. "Maybe enough to buy each of your organs."

Lora’s eyes widened. In a blink, she pulled her gun, aimed low, and fired at his foot. The shot cracked through the street.

Before he could curse, she was already sprinting back to her car. She dove into the passenger seat and crawled to the driver's seat, slammed the door, and floored the gas.

"Fucking jackass..." she breathed, knuckles white on the steering wheel. The city lights blurred past as she swerved between cars.

Finally, she pulled into a narrow alley and killed the engine. Sweat clung to her temple.

"Dios mío..." she whispered, raking her hair back. The A/C coughed out a weak breeze. Her head pounded like a drum. She slammed a palm against the dashboard out of frustration and sighed.

Her hand then reached for the tablet on the passenger seat and flinched at a sharp sting. Blood welled on her fingertip. She looked down to see her screen was cracked to hell.

"No... no, no—shit," she groaned, sucking the cut. She immediately started the car again and sped off, annoyed.

A few blocks later, she parked in front of an old electronics repair shop. The place looked like it hadn’t been updated since 2005, a graveyard of dead tech.

She gathered the cracked tablet into a plastic bag, stepped out, and made for the entrance. A blond girl exited, face half-scarred, maybe too young but one of her eyes glowed like a bionic lens.

Lora tilted her head down, brushing past her into the musty shop. The bell chimed as she entered, and the stench hit her like a punch.

Piles of DVDs, monitors, and cables towered around her. Claustrophobic is what she felt, and also home somewhat like a kid going to a candy shop.

She set the bag onto the counter.

"Hey, darling—" she started, then stopped when she saw the face behind it.

"Damn..." she breathed out, smirking. The place was a dump, but this girl? Definitely not.

"Got a number?—I mean, got time to fix this?" she said quickly, sliding the bag forward and flashing her best grin. "Gotta say, a techy like you could make a killing if you just flashed that face around."

Her eyes glinted as she extended a hand.

"Name’s Loraz Moreno. But you can call me Lora."