Neill lingered by the corner, half-shadowed beneath a flickering street sign. The crowd surged around him in waves, workers, drunks, synths, and clients spilling out from the red glow of the bordello street. His head throbbed with pressure as flickering overlays pulsed in and out of his vision, each one tagging strangers with their endless wants and needs until the noise became unbearable.
He squeezed his left eye shut, the world instantly quieter when half of it went dark. Finally. He could almost hear himself think again.
Then he saw him.
The man stepped out of Pluto's Nix, one of the busiest joints on this side of the district, swaggering like he owned the place. His neon-green mohawk towered above the crowd, its holographic sheen flashing an obnoxiously bright ad...
"GET 20% OFF THE NEWEST GIRLS AND BOYS AT PLUTO'S NIX!
USE CODE: AL O'VERA FOR DISCOUNT, AVAILABLE IN ALL BORDELLOS!"
The hair display looped again, shimmering like a walking billboard.
Neill's jaw clenched. That's him.
He pushed through the crowd and grabbed the guy before he could even light his e-cig. His hand caught the back of the other's hood and yanked, hard.
The man choked, stumbling as Neill dragged him into the narrow side alley, away from the neon wash of the main street. "What the fuck, what the fucking shit, who is this piece of shi---"
He stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening as recognition flickered through his face.
"Oh…"
The noise of the street seemed to fade under the low hum of tension between them.
"Long time no see," Neill said, a grin cutting across his face.
Al O'Vera froze. The color drained from his already pale skin. "Shit, man, ya scared the hell outta me!" he stammered, laughing weakly as he backed away. "Ya shouldn't be sneaking around like that! Big-ass mug like yars could cause a heart attack."
"Get me in contact with Big Mama."
Al's grin died instantly. "No way!" he blurted, hands up as he tried to push Neill back. "Dude, are ya serious? After what happened? After ya got kicked out---"
Neill's hand shot out, gripping the man's hair. The mohawk's glowing ad glitched, flickering violently as the recorded jingle warped into a distorted screech.
"Shut this off too," Neill muttered.
"Okay! Okay!" Al scrambled, flicking his wrist terminal open. The holographic ad on his hair fizzled and died, the alley finally blessed with silence. "No need to get violent, sheesh, "
But Neill still hadn't let go.
"Uh…" Al gulped, eyes darting to the side.
Neill leaned closer, voice low and almost amused. "Should I list everything you've been selling to a droidcop? All those scam codes, fake discount IDs, want me to recite them all?"
Al's face twisted in panic. "Okay, okay! No need for threats, man!" he wheezed, clutching Neill's arm. "I'll set it up! I'll let ya meet Big Mama, just, just give me a day, I'll ping you when---"
Neill shook his head slowly. His tone left no room for negotiation.
"…No. Now."
Al cursed under his breath, rubbing his temple. "Ya're gonna get me killed, ya know that?"
Neill's grin didn't waver. "Then we better make it worth your while."
***
Inside the gilded lobby of Pluto's Nix, the biggest bordello in the district, the air smelled of perfume, machine oil, and too much money.
It was ironic, this used to be his father's place. Now his old man worked out of a cramped, half-collapsing corner building that could barely afford working air filters.
Neill walked straight through, ignoring the way conversations halted mid-laugh. Faces turned, whispers started, and more than a few pointed. He recognized some of them, men and women who used to be regulars, who'd once greeted him with charm and winks. Now, their eyes carried a mix of pity and scandal.
Behind him, Al O'Vera stumbled in a few paces late, hissing under his breath, "Ya've lost yar goddamn mind, man! After what happened last week, ya just bailed mid-decoding on one of Big Mama's favorites!"
Neill didn't even glance back. His jaw tightened, his expression unreadable.
The accusation wasn't wrong. He had walked out mid-sequence while coding one of Big Mama's new androids, a luxury model meant to be the new piece of attraction to the establishment. The customer-retention protocol, the behavioral mapping and sensory conditioning it has, meant to be the new trend.
But the timing couldn't have been worse. That same night, he left as he'd got his left eye remove out to sell, desperate for immediate cash for his father's bordello bills.
The android's test run afterward had turned into a disaster. Halfway through her first session, she'd apparently 'interpreted' his action too literally, grabbing the poor client by the jewels and physically tossing him out of the room mid-session.
Neill could still picture remember the chaos that followed, the screaming client, the smoke from short-circuiting servos, Big Mama's enraged bellow that shook the walls. And somewhere in the mess, his name got attached to the failure.
Now he was walking right back into the lion's den.
He adjusted his jacket, stepped past the holo-lit floor tiles and the scanning eyes of synthetic bouncers.
If Big Mama wanted to tear him apart, she'd have to look him in the face while doing it.
They pushed through a crowd of staff who immediately started calling after them, voices overlapping, warnings, confusion, half-hearted attempts to stop them.
Al O'Vera, ever the loudmouth, waved them off with his usual swagger.
"Oh, hahaha, it's fine, it's fine! We've got a meeting with Big Mama!" he shouted, grinning nervously. "Ya know me, right? Al O'Vera! You can use my name as a code in any of the Nix bordellos, twenty percent off---"
Neill didn't even let him finish. He grabbed Al by the collar and yanked him down the annex hall, ignoring the questioning stares from the passing courtesans and maintenance droids. His boots echoed against the polished floor until they reached the thick, metal-plated door at the end of the corridor, the one with the gilded letters that spelled BIG MAMA'S OFFICE like a warning sign.
Without hesitation, Neill kicked the door open. The crash of metal against the wall cut through the low hum of the room.
"I want one of your picky customers," he said flatly.
Al froze beside him, eyes wide, mouth hanging open like a broken screen. "You, you what," he squeaked, voice strangled with disbelief.
But even he went silent at the sight before them.
The air was heavy with heat and perfume. The room glowed red and gold, mirrors reflecting the scene from every possible angle, the headboard, the ceiling, the sides of the bed, creating an illusion of infinite bodies caught mid-sin.
And there she was.
Big Mama.
The woman grunted as she slid off the massive bed, her heavy frame moving with the slow authority of someone who owned everything her gaze touched. The droid beneath her twitched and sparked faintly.
"Shit…" Al muttered under his breath, taking a step back.
Big Mama turned her head, the dark sheen of her hair catching the light as she reached for a robe, deep crimson silk embroidered with golden circuitry patterns. She slipped it on with practiced ease, her glare sharp enough to slice through steel.
Neill met her eyes without flinching, though his pulse quickened.
The paused android on the bed stilled completely, its expression frozen in an eerily serene half-smile. Its features flickered faintly, its skin tone, hair color, even its eyes, shifting in tiny increments as if struggling to sync with whatever its handler's last command had been.
"…Who let you in?" the big woman grunted, voice low and gravelly as she reached for a thick cigar from the bedside table. The flick of her lighter briefly illuminated the mirrored room, smoke curling lazily in the air.
Neill jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the man cowering behind him. "Your son," he said dryly.
Big Mama scoffed, the sound deep and derisive. "That boy with his tacky hair is no son of mine."
Behind Neill, Al bristled and muttered under his breath, "Nor do I got a dad who loves to dress up as a girl just to fuck other girls just---"
He didn't even finish before a sharp click echoed through the room.
Big Mama pressed the metal collar around their neck, and in an instant, the illusion shimmered, like a curtain of light being pulled away. The towering woman melted into a broad-shouldered man, skin still slick with sweat, muscles rippling beneath the open silk robe. The voice that came next was deeper, colder.
"Want me to shut your mouth, huh, Al?"
Al squeaked, actually squeaked, and scrambled toward the door. "Okay, I'm out! I'm out! Ya two can, uh, talk about whatever kinky shit this is!"
He bolted, the door slamming behind him.
Silence fell.
Neill stood his ground as the smoke thickened. The man before him, Big Mama, Ral O'Vera, leaned back against the bedpost, exhaling a long stream of smoke. The light from the mirrored walls caught the scar running across their chest, glinting faintly beneath the robe.
"Well," the figure said, voice smooth again, neither fully masculine nor feminine, just commanding. "Now that it's just us…"
Neill straightened his jacket, expression cold and focused. "I need a customer," He said flatly. "Even just one. Give me one of your picky ones."
Big Mama took a long drag from the cigar, the ember glowing red against the mirrored walls. The exhale came out slow, like he was savoring his desperation.
"Why would I do that?" he said, his voice low and amused. "The last time I tossed you one of my regulars, they came crawling back here crying about how one of your girls electrocuted him."
Neill opened his mouth, but he cut him off with a lazy wave of his hand.
"Stick to training my girls, Neill. Stop trying to steal Stan's line of business. You take scraps, try to make them desirable, but trash," he took another drag, eyes glinting under the smoke, "is still trash."
He bit down hard on his frustration, the faint buzz from his new eye burning into his skull. "I need to," he said quietly, but there was steel behind the words.
Big Mama's gaze sharpened. "Oh, I heard about Stan's place," he said, circling him like a shark. "Got raided by the droidcops, didn't it? Shots fired… messy stuff."
Neill's jaw twitched, but he said nothing even if the rumors had gotten way off the rails.
He stepped closer, towering over him, six foot seven of muscle, smoke, and expensive perfume that couldn't hide the faint ozone scent of his paused android on the bed. "Guess that's it for your business, kid. You should quit while you still got both legs and start whispering sweet nothings to my girls again. Teach them the ways to satisfy men."
Neill finally looked up, meeting his eyes head-on. "I'll prove it," he said. "Give me one customer, just one, and I'll make sure they'll keep coming back. Craving it. This time for real."
Big Mama's grin spread slow and cruel, teeth gleaming against the red smoke. "Oh?" he purred.
"Prove it to me then." he stubbed the cigar out on a nearby ashtray and tilted his head, expression somewhere between amused and predatory. "I'll be that picky customer."
Neill didn't flinch. He'd expected that. He's planned that.
That's why, the moment he stepped into the room, his left eye was already open, already scanning, already ready.
[ *********** SYSTEM ACTIVATED *********** ]
[ TARGET NO.103 : RAL O'VERA (BIG MAMA) ]
Status: Indifferent. Unsatisfied. Intrigued.
(Target is thinking about their 'girls'.)
[ HOST ABILITY: Desire Scan Initiated ]
Displaying Target's Wants and Needs...
[ WANTS ] Nicotine. Satisfaction. Companion. Thrill. Control. Dominance. Functionality.
[ NEEDS ] Validation. Intimacy. Relief. Identity stability. Acceptance.
[ DIAGNOSTIC ] Erectile dysfunction detected. Psychological compensation through gender-shift collar observed.
[ SYSTEM SUGGESTION ] : Host fulfill Targets Wants and Needs, Host will be rewarded heftly.
***
And there it was, the most useful read he'd gotten all day.
After scanning hundreds of random strangers just walking down the street, the system had an update. The new [ DIAGNOSTIC ] overlay flickered across his retina.
Neill leaned back slightly, pretending to stretch while the corners of his lips twitched upward.
With that data alone, his odds had just changed.
He wasn't walking out of here empty-handed.
"…You got it, Big Mama."