Tokyo, 2090.
The air felt crisp. Too crisp.
It carried a metallic smell that never belonged to the city — something that might last a long time.
Footsteps echoed in the empty streets of Tokyo.
"I don't remember the last time I felt guilty for doing this."
His hands were buried in his pockets, hoodie pulled low, hiding his eyes.
"…and I don't wanna remember the feeling of guilt anymore."
Under a flickering streetlight, he saw the buyer standing, waving slightly.
"Yo, you got the pack?" the man asked in a rough voice.
"Yeah, I do."
He reached out with the packet and took the money without hesitation.
The buyer's expression shifted, serious as he looked up at him.
"You heading toward DEAD STRIP?"
He lifted his head, ice-cold eyes revealed in the dim light.
"Yeah. Got a problem?"
The man stepped back, startled.
"It's too dangerous, man."
He started walking away, voice low.
"It ain't a problem. I live there."