2 Agent Finn

The bodies lay scattered around him fresh yet lifeless, their blood pooling into the cracked earth like spilled ink. Finn stood motionless for a moment, observing them as one might study a painting: detached, analytical, unimpressed. His gaze shifted slowly, scanning the remnants of the battlefield. Shattered weapons, glowing Aether Crystals, and fragments of advanced tech littered the ground all valuable, all tempting.

But he knew better than to act on impulse. The Void Cache in his palm had limits, and until he reached S-tier status, those limits were suffocating. He needed precision, not greed. Each item would have to earn its place in his storage or stay behind to rot with the rest.

A faint hum in the air reminded him that time was slipping away. On average, a B-class portal like this stayed open for only two hours. Already, the edges of the realm shimmered faintly, signaling its impending collapse. With deliberate steps, Finn moved toward the most promising materials, his mind already calculating which ones would bring the highest rewards and how far they'd take him toward his ultimate goal.

He chose the Aether Crystals and Nanobots, fewer items compared to the scattered treasures around him, but still valuable enough to warrant attention. Lifting his left hand, a holographic interface flickered into existence before his eyes, its translucent blue glow casting faint shadows on his face. The options were numerous, but he scrolled past most of them without hesitation. For now, only one mattered: Void Cache.

The moment he selected it, a black portal rippled open in front of him, pulsating faintly like a heartbeat. The Void Cache wasn't just storage, it was powered by nanobot-generated pocket dimensions capable of holding objects far larger than their physical size. With a flick of telekinetic force, he gathered the chosen items and sent them spiraling into the void. Efficient. Clean. No wasted motion.

Without sparing another glance at the crystals or bots now safely stored, he turned toward the lifeless bodies sprawled nearby. As he approached, a holographic panel materialized midair a stark white notification against the dim backdrop of the realm:

"Transfer Protocol Activated."

The Neural Ledger Implant (NLI) embedded in the deceased agent's spine had detected the cessation of vital signs. Without hesitation, Finn confirmed the transfer. Another panel flashed almost instantly:

"Credit Transfer Complete: +50,000 Credits Acquired."

Finn paused, staring down at the corpse with an unreadable expression. Fifty thousand credits. In this era, that amount barely bought a decent meal in the high-stakes markets of 2050. He felt no anger, no pity, just a hollow acknowledgment of how disposable lives had become. To the world, these agents weren't people; they were numbers waiting to be claimed.

His gaze shifted to the second body, of the man who'd died, pissing himself in sheer terror. Pathetic. But more importantly, useless. The NLI's protocol required the killer to claim credits within 30 seconds of death if the cause wasn't combat-related. Finn hadn't been the one to kill him, so those credits were already lost to the system, absorbed by some corporate fund or redistributed elsewhere. Not that it mattered. Finn didn't waste time mourning missed opportunities.

With nothing left to collect, he turned away from the corpses and stepped back toward the shimmering portal. Its edges pulsed faintly, beckoning him forward. As he crossed the threshold, the realm behind him began to collapse, swallowing the remnants of the mission and the worthless lives that had ended here.

**

At the Rabbit Cave black market—a place as unfriendly as it was chaotic. Finn walked with an air of ownership, his steps deliberate and unhurried. Merchants shouted over one another, haggling fiercely or arguing with desperate buyers. Beggars pleaded at every corner, their voices drowned out by the cacophony of greed and survival. Yet Finn moved through it all like a ghost, detached and unbothered, his gaze fixed ahead.

The market itself was a labyrinth, its twisting paths designed to confuse intruders while protecting those who knew its secrets. Every shop was fortified with Adaptive Quantum Shields, their strength varying depending on the skill of the agent who created them. It was a den of thieves, liars, and opportunists but also a sanctuary for those seeking freedom from corporate control.

Finn stopped before a particular stall, where Kael Voss, a wiry merchant with a cybernetic eye, was mid-negotiation. When Kael spotted Finn approaching, his demeanor shifted instantly. He cut off the buyer with a hurried apology, dismissing them without explanation. His movements were stiff, almost mechanical, as he stepped in front of his shop to greet Finn.

"Good to see you," Kael said, forcing a smile that didn't reach his glowing green eye. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

Finn said nothing. Instead, he opened his Void Cache and placed the items he'd collected onto the counter: Aether Crystals shimmering faintly, vials of Genetic Modifiers pulsing with eerie light. Then he locked eyes with Kael, his stare so intense it felt like a blade pressed against the man's throat.

"How much?" Finn asked, his voice low and flat.

Kael swallowed hard, though his mouth was dry as sandpaper. "L…let me check, sir."

Finn nodded once, his expression unreadable. Then, in the same steady tone, he added, "Your commission will be four percent from now on."

Kael froze, his mind struggling to process the words. "What… what did you say, sir?"

Finn's gaze sharpened, pinning Kael in place. "Your commission will be four percent from now on."

Caught off guard, Kael stammered, "But sir…"

Finn interrupted him, his voice colder than before. "Are you deaf?"

"Eh…" Kael's voice faltered, his confidence crumbling under the weight of Finn's presence.

"You are deaf, aren't you?" Finn leaned forward slightly, his deep voice dropping even lower. "Your commission will be four percent from now on."

The pressure in the air thickened, suffocating Kael. For a moment, his thoughts raced. Outside the black market, agents typically received only 65–70% of the value of their goods after company cuts. Here, independent agents could negotiate up to 80–85%, but only after fierce bargaining. And yet, here stood Finn, demanding an unprecedented reduction not negotiating, simply commanding.

Summoning what little courage he had left, Kael tried again. "But sir… why this sudden change of—"

Finn cut him off once more, his tone final. "You don't need to know."

Kael screamed silently inside his head: Of course I need to know, you fucking psycho! But no sound escaped his lips. Trembling visibly, he managed to choke out, "All right, sir."

With that settled, Kael quickly assessed the items and transferred 450,000 credits into Finn's Neural Ledger Implant. As soon as the transaction completed, Finn turned and walked away without another word, leaving Kael standing there, pale and shaken.