From Create Your Own Story

These dives always seep a rising mist from unseen crevices in the seedy architecture. Subcultures disillusioned with the Singularity, augged up or not, gather here to drown in either drink or dance, loneliness or lust. They undulate in the harsh strobes and commiserate at the bar in droves, silhouettes flickering in and out of existence.

In places like this, reception to the Interneural Network - the "in" - is spotty at best. Few people are jacked in anyway. The best places to hunt for data contraband are in these conglomerations of wet flesh and soft metal. No need to worry about facial recognition software when you're gridless in dark joints.

The only trace of your allegiance and profession is an encrypted identifier stored in your neurowatch. Once you flag and quarantine that byte, you'll be as anonymous as any other dummy-meat. You'll become your Tracker handle:

Chi_ro: 26/f.

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