Scrap Punk district.
West Side Scrap Alley, Rust Neon street.
The streets of Rusty Neon are a chaotic and vibrant mix of the futuristic and the run-down.
Neon-lit signs reflecting off the wet pavement below. Holographic advertisements flash on every surface, competing for attention with the blaring music and constant chatter of passersby.
The people who populate these streets are just as varied as the buildings. Cyber-enhanced mercenaries rub shoulders with street vendors selling questionable wares. Gangs and factions vie for power and territory, while hackers and netrunners lurk in the shadows, manipulating the world from behind their computer screens.
The air was thick with the stench of decay and the sounds of grinding machinery, and the buildings loomed over them like rusted giants. The neon lights that flickered overhead illuminated the dark alleys and gave the impression that he was trapped in a labyrinth of twisted metal and concrete.
A young man walked through the streets, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of danger as he headed towards a particular location.
He knew that the slum was home to gangs and criminals, each one willing to do whatever it takes to survive.
Drug addicts and the Cyber Psychos wandering aimlessly through the streets, trapped in a cycle of addiction and poverty that they may never escape.
Some of whom were slumped over in a drug-induced stupor, while others twitched and muttered to themselves in a state of psychosis.
This was a common sight in the slums. It was the law of the jungle where everyone was doing everything they can to survive one day at a time.
Underbelly of the district lies a dark and sinister world of illicit activities, where the line between legal and illegal is blurred and the rules of morality are ignored. At the heart of this shadowy world is a black market, a place where low-level forbidden and dangerous biotechnological goods are traded in secret.
It was difficult to locate the market as it is more like a labyrinth of dimly lit corridors and back alleys, filled with the constant hum of machinery and the murmurs shadowy conversations.
Here, vendors peddle their wares, offering a wide range of illegal biotech products, from banned genetic modifications to dangerous and experimental gene editing.
They move in small groups, exchanging coded signals and whispers to avoid drawing attention from the watchful eyes of the Enforcers.
The young man's sharp eyes glanced at an abandoned building but he was more experienced enough to know this was an illegal organ transplant clinic, where destitute and desperate individuals sell their organs to the highest bidder.
Here, unlicensed surgeons perform risky and unsanitary procedures, removing healthy organs from unwilling victims and selling them to those who can afford the exorbitant prices.
In another corner of the market, there are bio-hackers offering illicit gene-editing services, promising to enhance physical abilities or alter physical appearances. The risks associated with these procedures are high, with many patients experiencing adverse side effects or even death.
As it was night fall, the market becomes even more dangerous during this period, with the arrival of the criminal gangs who use the black market as a hub for their illegal activities. These ruthless criminals deal in the most dangerous and experimental biotech products, ranging from bioweapons to mind-altering drugs.
As a Natural with only a Neuro-implant, the youth made sure to avoid getting in trouble with anyone that's not a Natural.
With the vast amount of Splicers out there, one must be careful in order to survive especially within the black market. Although one should avoid provoking anyone, showing the slightest bit of weakness could get you killed!
The young punk strutted through the dimly lit alleyway, his leather jacket adorned with neon-green circuitry that glowed with every step he took. The cacophony of sounds from the bustling black market traders selling illegal biopunk items filled the air, punctuated by the occasional hum of neon signs advertising their illicit wares.
The man weaved his way through the throngs of people, his eyes darting from stall to stall, yearning for the latest bio gadgets and enhancements out there. Machine is everyman's dream but there young man could only look, he could never afford to buy any of the biological enhancement.
Even the basic requirement for using an enhancement, the Gene-splicing nanites was too expensive for the young man who could barely afford to feed himself.
The traders were a motley crew of individuals, each with their own unique offerings. Some had tables stacked high with bio-engineered plants that glowed in the dark, while others showcased repurposed animal organs that could grant enhanced strength or speed. A few of the more daring vendors even had vials of glowing liquid that promised to grant Mutated beast's abilities.
As he approached one particular stall, the vendor's eyes lit up with recognition, and he eagerly beckoned the young man over.
"Seeing you here again means you can afford the Merger right? Or are you here to stare at it again?"
"Yes." The young man replied, his voice barely above a whisper, like a man are little words. The trader wasn't offended, since this person had been coming here frequently, he was well aware of the young man's character, he doesn't talk much at all.
With a cunning smile, the middle-aged man revealed a small, heavy metal cube that barely fit an adult's palm.
The cube possessed a flawless, square shape, devoid of any imperfections. Its pitch-black surface was so impeccably smooth that it flawlessly mirrored the rays that struck it.
The young man's heart raced with excitement upon seeing the cube. The edges of his vision pulsed with a purplish LED glow as his enhanced Neuro system scrutinized the item, all the while maintaining a vigilant awareness of the potential risks associated with dealing in the black market.
The allure of potential gains was too strong to resist. Gene modification involving metal and genetic materials, offering body enhancements, presented a world of opportunities. It was his chance to rise above the average punk rat of this squalid slum.
The visible texts appeared as if woven into the fabric of his surroundings, seamlessly blending with reality. These floating words illuminated the specifics and features of the Cellular-Modifier right before his eyes, a digital guide to the potential enhancements it could offer.