Opening his eyes, Lohan began to feel sensations completely different from those he had experienced in the previous environment.
He smelled the ozone and rust of a filthy tavern; he felt the weight of the kinetic pistol in its holster and a strange rush of adrenaline coursing through his body. Through the leader's eyes, he saw the sweaty, enraged face of Oscar, the landlord.
"That brat humiliated me! He's got a $30k helmet, and now just because of that he acts like he owns the building! That's my fucking building!" Oscar shouted, throwing a stack of physical credits onto the metal table. "The only thing I want is to never see that brat's face again, and I want him to be thoroughly 'processed.' Hand his body over to the Sector 7 lab, they pay well for enhanced tissue."
The memory moved forward.
