The job offer came in at 8:00 AM.
[CONTRACT OFFER: URGENT REPAIR]
Client: Anonymous (Corporate High-Tier)
Location: The Obsidian Spire (Neutral Zone)
Task: Calibrate a Holo-Projector for a VIP Summit. Payment: 50,000 Credits.
Ren choked on his synthetic coffee. "Fifty thousand? For calibrating a projector? That's usually a fifty-credit job. Did they add three zeros by mistake?"
He re-read the description. "Must handle sensitive equipment with extreme care. Contractor must be discreet. Dress code: Formal."
Ren looked at his new coat. He looked at his Omni-Tool. He looked at his bank account.
"Well," Ren straightened his collar. "I am a professional."
[The Obsidian Spire – Penthouse Conference Room]
The Obsidian Spire was the only building in Neo-Babel where shooting people was technically illegal for everyone, including corporations. It was neutral ground.
Ren was escorted into the Penthouse by a drone that scanned him four times. The doors hissed open, revealing a conference room that was larger than Ren's entire apartment block.
At the center was a massive table made of black glass.
Sitting around the table were five people.
Ren froze. He recognized them. Everyone in Neo-Babel recognized them. They were the faces on the news, the wanted posters, and the nightmares of every criminal.
Sylvia Sterling: The CEO of Sterling Industries. (Currently sipping tea).
Don Giovanni: The Mafia Boss he met yesterday. (Currently sweating).
Varg: The Warlord. He was wearing a tuxedo that was stretching so tight across his chest it looked like it was screaming for help. He was wearing a tie, but it was just a clip-on stuck to his massive trapezius muscle.
Kael: The Cyber-Samurai. He was standing in the corner, arms crossed, trying to look like a statue.
A Hologram: A floating blue avatar of a generic "IT Guy," but Ren could feel the hum of intense processing power coming from it. (Nexus).
Ren stood in the doorway, terrified. 'Why are they all here? Did I walk into a secret world domination meeting?'
"Ah," Sylvia said, her voice smooth as silk. " The technician is here."
All five heads snapped toward Ren.
Varg started to stand up, grinning like a shark. "LITTLE BO—"
KICK.
Sylvia kicked Varg under the table with a heel made of reinforced titanium. Varg sat back down, wincing. "—Uh, Little Contractor. Hello."
Ren swallowed hard. "Hi. I'm... Ren. I'm here for the projector?"
"Yes," Sylvia gestured to a small, sleek device in the center of the table. "It is malfunctioning. It is critical for our... negotiations. Please, fix it."
Ren approached the table. The air was thick with tension. It felt like walking into a cage with five lions who had all decided he was their favorite cub.
"Okay," Ren whispered. "Just a projector. Don't look at the Warlord. Don't look at the Mafia Don."
He placed his toolkit on the table.
"I need to get under the table to access the wiring port," Ren said apologetically.
"UNDER THE TABLE?" Varg boomed. "IS IT SAFE? ARE THERE DUST BUNNIES? I WILL DESTROY THEM!"
Varg pulled out a combat knife.
"Sit down, you oaf," the Hologram (Nexus) buzzed. "Ren... I mean, the Technician... is capable of handling dust."
Ren gave a nervous laugh. "Yeah, I got it. Thanks for the... enthusiasm."
Ren crawled under the massive black glass table.
[Under the Table]
Ren lay on his back, screwing open the panel of the projector unit.
Above him, the conversation continued. But since he was out of sight, the tone shifted immediately.
Sylvia (whispering): "Why is he here, Giovanni? I didn't invite you."
Don Giovanni (whispering): "I heard the Kingmaker was attending! I brought gifts! I have a coupon for a free pizza franchise!"
Kael (whispering from the corner): "You are all too loud. You are disturbing his focus."
Varg (whispering loudly): "I can't see him! Is he okay? What if he gets stuck? I should go under there and help."
Sylvia: "If you crawl under this table, Varg, I will buy your arena and turn it into a petting zoo."
Nexus: "Quiet. He is engaging the Omni-Key. Look at his technique. His wrist rotation is flawless. 98% efficiency."
Ren paused mid-screw. 'What are they talking about? Petting zoos? Kingmakers? These rich people are insane.'
He found the problem. A loose coupler. Easy fix.
"Almost done!" Ren called out from under the table.
"Take your time!" All five voices shouted in unison.
[The Roof - Exterior]
While the "Summit" was happening, a stealth transport touched down on the roof.
A team of Void-Mercs—cybernetically enhanced assassins who could phase through solid matter—stepped out. They were hired by a rival conglomerate to assassinate Sylvia Sterling.
"Target is in the conference room," the Lead Merc hissed. "We have intel that she is meeting with other high-value targets. Kill them all."
"What about security?"
"Sensors show only one guard in the room (Varg) and some corporate suits. We have element of surprise."
The Mercs activated their Phase-Cloaks. They became invisible ghosts, slipping through the ceiling vents.
[The Conference Room]
Ren was just tightening the last bolt when the air pressure in the room dropped.
Nexus, being the digital god that he was, detected the intrusion instantly. [ALERT: 6 HOSTILES DETECTED. CEILING VENT 4.]
Sylvia's eyes narrowed. She tapped her teacup. Kael's hand drifted to his katana. Varg's muscles tensed, ripping the back of his tuxedo jacket.
Ren, still under the table, sneezed. "Dusty down here."
"Bless you," said Viper's voice over the room's intercom (she had hacked the audio system).
The Attack Begins.
The six Void-Mercs dropped from the ceiling, decloaking in mid-air, weapons raised.
"DEATH TO STERL—"
They didn't finish the sentence.
Merc 1 & 2: Varg didn't even stand up. He simply grabbed the heavy marble coaster on the table and threw it. It moved faster than sound. It ricocheted off Merc 1's helmet, knocking him into Merc 2, and both flew out the reinforced window.
Merc 3: Kael moved. He didn't draw his blade. He just threw his scabbard. It hit the Merc in the throat, silencing him instantly. Kael caught the scabbard on the rebound.
Merc 4 & 5: Sylvia didn't look up from her datapad. Two hidden turrets popped out of the flower pots in the corner and fired high-voltage tasers. The Mercs convulsed and dropped silently to the carpet.
Merc 6 ( The Leader): He landed on the table, right above where Ren was working. He aimed his gun at Sylvia.
"Nobody move or I—"
Suddenly, the panel Ren was working on popped open.
Ren, unaware of the chaos above, pushed the connector pin back into place with a forceful click.
"Gotcha!" Ren exclaimed.
This action caused the Holo-Projector to activate.
[SYSTEM REBOOT: MAX BRIGHTNESS TEST.]
A beam of concentrated, blindingly bright blue light shot straight up from the center of the table—directly into the face of the Merc Leader standing over it.
"MY EYES!" The Merc screamed, blinded. He stumbled backward, tripped over Varg's outstretched leg, and fell face-first onto the floor, knocking himself unconscious on the marble.
Silence.
Ren crawled out from under the table, wiping grease from his hands.
He looked around.
The window was broken. Two guys were twitching in the corner near the flower pots. One guy was unconscious on the floor.
Ren blinked. "Uh... did I miss something?"
Sylvia smiled calmly. "Just some... technical difficulties. The window... spontaneously shattered due to air pressure. And these men..."
"They are the delivery boys!" Varg shouted unhelpfully. "They... delivered themselves! Then they got tired! Nap time!"
Ren looked at the unconscious Merc on the floor. He was wearing full tactical gear and holding a plasma rifle.
"He's sleeping with a gun?" Ren asked.
"It's a prop!" Don Giovanni yelled, sweating profusely. "For the... uh... play! We are rehearsing a play! Shakespeare! But with guns!"
Ren looked at the group. They all nodded aggressively.
"Okay..." Ren said slowly. "Well, the projector is fixed."
He tapped the console. A perfect, crisp hologram of a generic landscape appeared.
"Excellent work," Sylvia said, standing up. "The contract is fulfilled."
She slid a Cred-Stick across the table. 50,000 Credits.
Ren took it. "Thanks. You guys are... really eccentric. Good luck with your play."
Ren turned to leave. He stepped over the unconscious assassin.
"Oh, hey," Ren pointed at the assassin's boot. "His shoelace is untied too. Weird trend."
Ren walked out the door.
[The Aftermath]
The moment the door closed, the atmosphere in the room turned murderous.
Varg grabbed the unconscious Merc Leader by the neck and lifted him one-handed.
"THEY INTERRUPTED HIM," Varg growled, his eyes glowing red. "HE WAS FIXING A WIRE. IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL MOMENT. AND THEY RUINED IT."
"Agreed," Kael said, stepping out of the shadows. "They dared to stand on the table above his head. Disrespectful."
Sylvia adjusted her glasses. "Nexus, trace their employer. Giovanni, dispose of the trash. Varg, stop squeezing him, we need him alive for interrogation."
"I WANT TO PULL HIS ARMS OFF," Varg pouted.
"Later," Sylvia promised. "First, we find out who sent them. Then we burn their entire organization to the ground."
"For Ren," Nexus buzzed.
"For Ren," the group chorused.
[The Elevator]
Ren rode the elevator down, humming a tune.
"Fifty thousand credits," Ren marveled. "And all I had to do was fix a plug while they rehearsed a weird avant-garde play. Rich people are so bored."
He looked at his Omni-Tool.
"I wonder what I should buy next? Maybe a car? Or maybe I should invest in that pizza franchise the sweaty guy was talking about."
Ren stepped out into the lobby, feeling great.
"I love being a fixer."