Chapter 4: Secrets in Code

Headlights of dawn began to burn away the city haze as I led Iris through the empty docks. We needed a fortress to count our spoils and plan. The Shadow Balance ledger was ours now, but who else knew?

Back at the apartment, I collapsed onto the sofa. Screens lit up with the raw data from Virage's systems – a waterfall of code and bank accounts. Thousands of lines spewed. Dare I touch them? I needed to know: were we heroes or thieves? Friend or enemy? The system answered with a new order:

Mission: Dissect the Shadow Balance network.

I powered up my terminal. Iris sat across, analyzing circuits in her core. "Data integrity: high. Shadow Balance is a global astral exchange, beyond corporate scope. More like world market manipulation."

Her summary glowed in my vision. Powerful groups at multiple nodes. Criminal cartels, oligarchs, even some rumored governments. Each had ledgers flush with Astral. It was massive, deep. I felt the tiny hairs raise on my neck.

A beep signaled a new message: Objective – Extract contact leads from data. This was above petty theft. The system was telling me to find the puppetmasters.

We dove into code side by side. My fingers danced; Iris provided neural support. Together, we decoded encrypted fragments: names and faces blurred, but maps and transfer routes emerged. Money moved through banks in skylines around the globe like rivers.

My mind whirled. Each node was a powerful man or consortium. If I pulled one thread, the whole net might unravel. I felt an icy thrill – it was strategic warfare.

Hours blurred. By midday, a breakthrough: one ledger repeatedly mentioned a series of Astral-run casinos and night markets. Cross-referencing with criminal intel, I isolated one address – an exclusive club called The Azure Fen in the Gold Quarter. Clearly, a meeting place for major players. The system note glowed: New mission unlocked – Infiltrate The Azure Fen.

I couldn't suppress a grin. This was the big league. Iris sensed it too. "Highly dangerous. But lucrative, if you please."

The phrase was robotic, lacking emotion, but I caught a hint of curiosity in her tone. The club was rumored to be guarded by crowds and paramilitaries, but had a backdoor: it was near the river. Perfect for a stealth approach by water.

I retrieved my sleek river-skimmer bike from the safehouse garage. Powerful and silent on water. Iris fitted herself into the co-pilot console beneath the windscreen. I slid on my helmet, hidden but ready.

"This is it, Iris," I muttered, revving the engine. "Eyes sharp, Master commands."

She gave her standard acknowledgment: "Ready to proceed, Master." Her voice was like glass: clear, assured.

The night draped the city again as we glided to the turquoise-lit facade of The Azure Fen. From a distance, I saw silhouettes in the courtyard – armed bouncers, heavily scanned. The main entrance had retina scans. But the river: a narrow canal ran behind the club. There, a forgotten service hatch had no eyes to watch it. Perfect.

We tied up 20 meters behind the building. No drones. I took my gear: EMP pistol, face lit by the HUD's glow. Iris telepathically linked to my comms and motion sensors. I opened the grate. We slithered through the cramped tunnel. Stagnant water sloshed around our ankles.

At the end was a grate I had spotted on a blueprint: an employee exit. It opened with a discreet hack from Iris. We slipped into a dim hallway stacked with crates. Then, into the heart of opulence: chandeliers of blue crystal hung from a high ceiling; gamblers in fine suits clustered around roulette tables and black markets in high tech. Astral coin depositors changed at the cashier's desk in one corner, handing over shiny metals. The color scheme – azure and silver – gave the place its name and aura.

A man with a clipboard, fedorastra hat, yelled orders at armored staff. Another rose from a table stacked with chips – slightly older, face like carved marble – scanning the crowd with one sharp eye. He spotted a camera. The dance began. We needed covert.

I burrowed into shadows as Iris linked my optical cam to her AI eyes. On my HUD, she marked our targets. We needed info, not a fight.

I approached the roulette with calm purpose, heart hiding ferocity. I placed a moderate bet of 50 Credon on red – a mathematical gamble. The wheel spun. Red 22 won. That netted me a stack of chips valued at 500 credon. I let it slide, exchanging it for 1 Astral. Now I had 2 Astral of my own, winking heavy in my pocket. The second Astral felt like molten wealth. The system's conversion feeling real: 2 Astral in hand, 20 Credon weight.

With guts, I stepped closer to the subtle sign – the manager's table. I asked, voice calm: "One drink and information on tonight's events, please." The manager eyeballed me, calculating. Iris's silent calculation was feeding me social metrics: probable trust level, status needed. My new Astral likely got attention on our credentials. The place needed high rollers.

He gestured to a velvet cushion. Iris had interfaced with the club's mainframe through my deck discreetly. I took a seat. The manager slid me a glowing blue cocktail – tasted like licorice and circuits.

"Transaction complete," hissed Iris quietly. We now had floor access code levels. But each sip cost me more risk. I touched the glass with fingers, thinking. The club brimmed with clandestine deals, but which to pick?

Across the room, a mahogany door bearing a golden insignia caught my attention: VIP Casino Floor. Authorized only. Perfect. I nudged my unfinished drink into a goblin's bearded mouth – he was asleep at the blackjack table – and cooly rose. Iris, ever my shadow, popped open the door with silent hacking.

Inside, the VIP area glowed golden. Men in tailored suits whispered, exchanging stacks of Astral for data drives. Guarded brokers hustled codes at a glossy table. My heart pounded with excitement.

A voice behind me: "Lost something?" A tall woman, pistol at her hip, stepped out. A security capstone. I could out-run criminals, outsmart tech, but guns – not my forte. Yet I smirked. "On the contrary," I said softly, "just found it."

Her expression didn't budge. "Leave, or you'll upset my boss."

I weighed risk. I had what I came for: the boss's name, encoded behind glasses held by the older suited man near the Roulette. If I moved now, system said success. But I needed more cover to escape with my findings.

"Hey Iris," I murmured in his ear. "Distract."

She whirled a small drone that landed on an electrical panel. Sparks flew, lights flickered. Guards yelled and scrambled. I used the chaos, moving behind plush partitions, grabbing files from the table of deals. One was stamped Shadow Balance Partners – Confidential with faces and figures.

Alarm klaxons blared. Time was up. I bolted out of the VIP and down the steps into chaos below. Guards chased; Iris suppressed them with a smokescreen grenade.

Out into the alley I burst. The night air never felt sweeter as I sprinted back to our skimmer. Iris dove on board at the last second. We escaped through the midnight waves, adrenaline lashing every nerve.

Sweating and laughing, I collapsed on the houseboat engine. My laptop glowed with data we grabbed: the coded list was encryption of names – national and corporate leaders channeling Astral. One stood out, named "Brotherhood of the Golden Aspect." Mystery deepened.

Once home, I transferred files for safe keeping. The system rewarded the mission: +3 Astral, +5000 Credon. Total in pocket now: 5 Astral, 7525 Credon. My wallet felt heavy with promise.

But heavy doesn't mean I was king. Far from it. In these black waters of power, I was but a drop. Still, I was starting to see a balance point. If I played right, I could tip the scales in my favor – or risk drowning.