Outside, the rain stopped. The neon still bled. And Momo, the entertainer who was never just an entertainer, walked out of the penthouse with a new client, a new purpose, and a bomb in her heel that was now a promise.
Honda nodded once. “Deal.”
The job was simple, or so they told her. “Entertain the client. Make him comfortable. He’s a collector.” -DS-She Went to Entertain Her Client-Honda Momo...
Momo stared at the chip. Then at the fusion core. Then at the man who was no client—but a desperate father. Outside, the rain stopped
“DS,” she whispered—the kill-code for her handler. “Backup.” a new purpose
