Bad Day, Worse Night
Chapter 1: Bad Day, Worse Night
The rain in the Gloom didn’t fall. It oozed. A dirty, neon-drenched slick that made everything smell like wet metal and regret. I was soaking in both.
My name is Kaito Tanaka, but down here, I’m just Kai. And tonight? Tonight was a bust.
The guy I was supposed to grab, a low-level data thief, had given me the slip by diving into a packed noodle market. One minute I had him, the next I was getting yelled at in three different languages for knocking over a vendor’s cart of questionable fish cakes.
So now I was cold, wet, and my wallet was still empty. Just another Tuesday.
I pushed open the door to Jax’s place. It was less a clinic and more a junk heap that occasionally performed medical miracles. Wires snaked across the floor, and the hum of old machinery was the only music Jax ever played.
“Smells like failure and cheap synth-whiskey in here,” a gruff voice called out from behind a half-dismantled robot arm. “And I know I didn’t drink that cheap stuff.”
Jax rolled out on his chair, his massive robotic legs whirring softly. He was built like a fridge with a beard.
“Very funny,” I grumbled, shaking the rain out of my hair like a wet dog. “The guy was slippery.”
“They always are when you need rent money,” he said, giving me a once-over. “Let me guess. The wolfy-woos are getting grumpy?”
I shot him a look. “Don’t call them that.” The “wolfy-woos” were the thing inside me, the leftover mess from my old job. A constant, angry itch under my skin. My fancy cybernetic arm—all shiny black metal and blue lights—helped keep it on a leash. Mostly.
“I’m just saying,” Jax continued, grabbing a tool. “You get cranky when you don’t eat. And by ‘eat,’ I mean ‘chase down bad guys and unleash your inner beast.’ It’s a specific diet.”
I was about to tell him exactly what he could do with his diet advice when my cheap comm-link buzzed. A message flashed up:URGENT JOB. PAYDAY. Meet at The Rusty Bolt. 30 mins.
A payday sounded good. A payday labeled ‘urgent’ usually meant trouble. But my options were trouble or getting evicted. I chose trouble.
“Gotta go,” I said, heading for the door.
“Try not to knock over any more old ladies!” Jax yelled after me.
The Rusty Bolt was the kind of bar where the stains had stains. The air was thick with the smell of fried grease and broken dreams. In a shadowy booth in the back, a woman was waiting.
She didn’t belong here. At all.
She looked… clean. Her clothes were simple but neat, no obvious patches or stains. She was staring at her hands like she was trying to remember how they worked. As I slid into the booth across from her, she jumped a little.
“You the one with the job?” I asked.
She nodded, her eyes wide. “You’re Kaito?”
“Just Kai. And you are?”
“Elara,” she said. Her voice was soft. “I need you to find someone.”
“Right. That’s usually the job. Who’s the someone?”
“Me.”
I blinked. “Okay. You’ve lost me. You seem pretty found to me.”
“They’re looking for me,” she said, leaning forward. Her fear was real. I could smell it. “A company. A big one. OmniCorp. I need you to help me hide. To throw them off my trail. Make them think you’re looking for me, but really, you’re leading them away.”
This was new. Usually, people just wanted me to find their cheating boyfriend or stolen pet robo-cat.
“OmniCorp, huh?” The name was like a rock in my gut. My old fan club. “That’s top-tier trouble. That kind of trouble costs.”
She pushed a data-chip across the table. It was sleek, expensive. “There’s half the payment on there. The other half when I’m safe.”
I picked it up. The number on it made my heart do a little salsa. It was more than enough for rent. It was ‘buy-a-new-liver-after-all-that-synth-whiskey’ money.
I should have said no. I really should have. But the wolf inside me perked up, interested in the hunt, and the guy who owed three months’ rent saw a way out.
“Alright, Elara,” I said, pocketing the chip. “You’ve got yourself a hound. Let’s start with where you last saw them.”
We hadn’t even gotten two sentences in when the bar’s front door exploded.
Well, not exploded. But it slammed open so hard itfeltlike an explosion. Two hulking figures stood silhouetted against the neon glow of the street. They were way too big, way too quiet. Their eyes glowed with a faint red light.
Cyber-Hounds. OmniCorp’s favorite tracker toys.
So much for leading them away. They’d already found her.
“Or,” I said, grabbing Elara’s arm. “We skip to the running-away part. Now!”
We bolted from the booth just as a giant metal claw tore through the space where my head had been. The other patrons, used to this kind of thing, just ducked under their tables.
We burst out into the alley behind the bar. Rain and neon signs reflected off the wet pavement. It was a dead end.
“Great,” I muttered. “Just great.”
The two Hounds stepped out, blocking our way out. They moved with a creepy, smooth silence.
Elara was frozen, panicked. This was not part of her plan.
The Hounds took a step forward. My cybernetic arm whirred, its internal systems switching from “chill” to “fight.” The itch under my skin turned into a burning fire. The wolf wanted out. It was always looking for an excuse.
“Stay behind me,” I growled at Elara.
One of the Hounds lunged. I shoved Elara back against the wall and met its charge with my metal arm. The impact jarred my teeth. I grabbed a nearby trash can lid—classic move—and slammed it into the thing’s head. It barely flinched.
The other one went for Elara. She did something I didn’t expect. She didn’t scream. She held out her hands, and her fingers started moving like she was typing on an invisible keyboard. A weird, shimmering light flickered around her.
The Hound stuttered. Its red eyes flickered. It shook its head like a dog shaking off water.
“What did you do?” I yelled, dodging another swing from my new trash-can-lid-loving friend.
“I confused its systems!” she yelled back. “But not for long!”
Fancy trick. But we were still trapped.
My Hound grabbed me by the jacket and threw me against a brick wall. Pain exploded in my back. The world swam for a second. The anger, the fear, the constant itch—it all boiled over.
The leash in my mind snapped.
I felt my bones groan. My senses dialed up to a thousand. I could smell the oil on the Hound, the fear on Elara, the rot in the trash. The world was suddenly too bright, too loud.
I pushed myself up. A low, deep growl rumbled in my chest—a sound no human should make.
The Hound coming at me paused. Its stupid robot brain was probably recalculating the threat level.
Too late.
I moved faster than I knew I could. I sidestepped its grab and drove my metal fist right into its chest plate. Metal crunched. Wires sparked. I didn’t stop. I hit it again. And again.
The other Hound, recovered from Elara’s tech-magic trick, started toward us. I turned on it, my lips pulled back from my teeth.
That’s when Elara screamed.
Not a scared scream. A horrified one. She was staring atme. At my face. At my eyes, which I knew were now glowing a fierce, animal yellow.
I wasn’t just Kai anymore. I was the thing OmniCorp made me.
The fight drained out of me, replaced by a cold shame. I took a shaky step back.
The remaining Hound saw its opening. It lunged, not at me, but at Elara.
Instinct took over. I shoved her out of the way, and its claws ripped down my side instead. White-hot pain seared through me. I cried out and collapsed to my knees on the wet asphalt.
The Hound loomed over me, its red eyes boring into mine. It raised a claw for the final strike.
Then, a tiny canister clinked at its feet. It wasn’t mine. It wasn’t Elara’s.
A thick, sweet-smelling pink gas exploded out of it, covering the Hound completely. The robot coughed, sputtered, and its lights went crazy. It started spinning in a slow circle, then tipped over with a crash, completely knocked out.
A figure dropped down from the fire escape above us.
“You know, for a professional,” a cheerful voice said, “you really make a mess of things.”
It was a woman about my age, dressed in a patchwork of colorful, mismatched clothes. She winked at me. “The name’s Jynx. You looked like you could use a party favor.” She kicked the downed Hound. “Naptime for toaster-boy.”
I was too busy trying not to pass out from the pain in my side to be grateful. Or embarrassed.
Elara rushed to my side. “You’re hurt!”
“No kidding,” I gasped. The world was getting fuzzy at the edges.
Jynx whistled. “Yikes. That’s a look. Come on, hero. Let’s get you patched up.” She slung my good arm over her shoulder. “You too, Miss Clean-Clothes. You’re part of this mess now.”
As they half-dragged me out of the alley, leaving the sparking Hounds behind, one thought pounded in my head along with the pain.
This wasn’t a payday. This was the start of a nightmare. And my bad day had just turned into a worse night.
