Canned Coffee: 04

Positioned around the three square meters room were two unknown figures.

The Manager welcomed me in and closed the door behind us.

Sitting behind a metal desk there was one person with their face covered by the shadow of a small yellow lamp.

What drew my eyes were their upper limbs. Elbows resting on the modest metal desk and fingers intertwined in front of their face, those arms and hands cost the price of two apartments in the middle tier. Those prosthetics had ten times the strength of a human arm and were equipped with hidden blades. The palms had an electric switch that could kill a man with just one touch, plus the fingers were able to manipulate even the smallest of objects and had all sorts of sensors. Top tier nanotech. That was the Pope, no doubt.

Leaning against the wall there was a person I couldn't distinguish the gender, but they looked just as expensive. Face all remodeled to look as perfect as the beauty standards required—slim nose, square jaw, high brows, full lips, skin so smooth and glowing in a neon shade of pink. Blue cat eyes scanned me with a naughty smirk. The body was also synthetic but tried to imitate real skin on the outside, except for the joints—they exposed metallic golden mechanisms as part of the exhibition. I wondered if there was still something human left in them. So that's how the Joker, the leader of the Circus, looked like.

They were The Trinity themselves. Shit was real.

The Pharmacy was responsible for drugs; the Circus was responsible for the pleasure market involving sex, kinks, nightclubs, and alcohol. And then there were the gun suppliers who were called, in a very clever way, the Church.

During the rise of the slums, there wasn't a leading magnanimous organization, or even peace among the underground Lords. Many wars started because of territory and suppliers' disputes. Not to mention the random deaths involving gang member rivalries that ended up with the slums turned into a bloody battlefield.

After years fighting each other and the lower tier expansion as the background, these isolated gangs were forced to stand together against the city's Force. The Mayor ordered a massive strike against the slums, with orders to evacuate and destroy the whole place under the excuse of rebuilding.

At the face of a common enemy that threatened the extinction of their whole business, three leaders of the biggest factions formed an alliance entitled The Trinity. They divided the slums in three sections, handing them to units to maintain and protect the peace.

Laws were created, such as the one that obligated the marking of each member using body alterations, and most importantly, one rule saying that each unit was allowed to provide only one product or service. Meaning only the Pharmacy sold drugs, just the Carousel could run pleasure clubs, and exclusively the Church could sell weapons. Said law was followed everywhere inside of Eoncity.

"What were they doing here after all this time?" said the person behind the desk, blowing smoke on the lamp.

"Put that thing out for fuck's sake Katana" Waving his hand, trying to dissipate the smoke, the Manager said so casually I feared for him.

Ignoring the squishy man's protest, the person leaned forward, revealing their androgynous features.

"Needle says you can go deeper, is that right?" Referring to the Manager, the Pope was talking to me in a very uniform tone.

"I have my ways." There was a persistent itch in my nose. I kept moving it, trying to make it go away—even my voice started to sound shaky.

"What ways?" This time it was the Joker who asked, revealing their seductive voice.

"Can't tell ya that mate. Otherwise why would you pay me?"

They all stared at me for a while, deciding if I was bold or just a prick. Then, the Pope looked at the Manager, who was still by my side at the door, smirking for no apparent reason.

Letting out another blow, the Church leader stepped on what was left of the cigarette.

"You like this one? Know this is your responsibility as the new Chemist."

"Don't mind her. I like this one" agreeing with a dirty smile, said the Joker. "And I prefer working with good-looking people."

Nodding to thank the compliment, I remained quiet, fighting the urge to sneeze.

"Good" the Manager turned to me and continued. "We need you to find out why the cops were here and when they are coming back."

"Finding out why they were here? I already got that answer. Knowing when they are gonna be back is something else…"

"Won't you tell us?" asked Katana impatiently.

"Sorry, but knowing things is how I make a living."

Letting out a chuckle, the Joker winked at me.

"Then we ain't gonna pay ya." The Pope didn't seem to like me very much. With a deep thud, she knocked her hand against the table, frustrated.

As I began to sniff loudly, she pulled out a cigarette, lit it up, and blew the smoke in my direction.

I only knew the reason why the police infiltrated the slum thanks to a certain cop, and all I had to do was verify it by hacking into her armour and checking her communication data. That last part she wasn't aware of. I couldn't just take her word for it.

After checking everything, I found nothing more than a simple order to look for Mask hideouts. Despite her special forces status, Officer Abrom had access to a very low level of security. To access future operations, I'd have to get my hands on someone higher ranked.

"Then you ain't gonna get sh—" Mid-sentence, the smoke the Pope blew at me got to my nose, and before I could finish my daring punchline, I sneezed, making it rain all over the room.

Immediately, Katana crushed the table and stood up. Her arms got a red glow as if they had just been activated.

"Is this clown your best contact?"

"Back off, Katana!" Surprisingly, the skinny Manager stepped in, blocking the way.

"Uh, sorry. I have allergies." I wiped my nose on my jacket's sleeve, sniffing deeply for the woman's annoyance. "What was I saying?"

"I'll pay you for both information equally." Behind the Manager, baby Pope puffed in disapproval.

"They were after the Mask leader."

As I answered, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate. All three leaders exchanged familiar looks.

"What do you need to find out when they are coming back?" The Manager continued as Katana sat down, upset but not with me anymore.

"Access to someone who has the information or has a high-ranked position that I can use to get it."

Every eye in the room turned to me. My request wasn't exactly simple. Someone with that level of access had to be a Sergeant at the very least. They wouldn't have the specific intel on the Force's next moves, but all I needed was a door.

Taking from the heavy vibe of the room, they knew something I didn't. Quiet, just staring at the Manager, Katana began to shake her head.

"He can help us." The Manager was negotiating in my favor.

Of course, the Trinity had a rat in the Force. And Needle was trying to make them release the information to me. Personally, the Manager had just turned into my favorite person.

"You can't just hand it to this clown!"

"I say we do. He wouldn't be so cocky if he wasn't capable of delivering it." As expected, the Joker was a great judge of character.

Ignoring the Pope's rude protests, the Manager turned to me with the confidence of someone in power.

"We have a Sergeant on the paycheck. I'll get you a meeting."

"He is dumb, so you'll have to do all the hard work yourself."

"No problem. If he's in the network, I can find what you want." I answered the Joker and got a smile in return.

"Set up the meeting, Needle." The Pope was more cooperative but still displeased.

"No need. Just pass me his ID."

"We don't have that." The Manager replied.

"And how do you know he is who he says?"

"He is legit." The Manager was in the lead, and everyone seemed to support his claim. He was in control of the negotiations.

"Okay. Tell me what you got."

"Lee, Toni. Lives in the middle section." As he finished speaking, a notification popped up on my private view—his specific address.

"Will you need that meeting now?" asked Katana.

"No. I hate cops. I'll do it my way."

Name and location facilitated things quite a bit. All I had to do was cross him in person, unfortunately.

First, I needed to leave and get some allergy pills. This underworld rendezvous turned out to be more intense than I had anticipated.

"10 thousand. I'll be in touch."

Sergeant Lee, Toni, what a dumb name. If he is as bright as his name, this job won't be fun at all.

I never got hands on a cop's IP before Officer Abrom. She was a ground soldier, no real access to intelligence information or ongoing operations. That didn't mean she wasn't useful. I got to peek inside the police department, and it was interesting. All it cost me was my favorite comfort hoodie.

Outside the suffocating room, I could hear the Pope shouting something about my departure, while the Manager began to explain what came next. He knew I only started the job after receiving half the payment in advance—not a second before.