Li Feng's back room felt even smaller with three people breathing in it. The air was thick with the smell of cooling electronics and the faint metallic tang of essence residue that clung to Ren and Aoi's clothes.
They slept in shifts—Ren first, then Aoi, then Li Feng. No one got more than four hours. The jammer buzzed like a trapped insect the whole time.
By 2:00 p.m. the next day, they were awake, sitting on the floor around Li Feng's low table. A map of Neo-Tokyo glowed on one of the monitors, red dots marking known Purification checkpoints and blue ones for black-market safe houses.
Li Feng tapped a cluster of blue dots in the old industrial zone near Sumida River.
"Neutral ground. The 'Current'—that's what the underground calls itself. Not a single faction, more like a loose co-op. Ex-Pagans who don't want to eat people, rogue Miracles who got tired of the dogma, essence runners, info brokers. They don't ask your alignment as long as you don't start holy wars in their territory."
Aoi frowned. "I've heard rumors. They're supposed to be untouchable—even the Order avoids direct raids there because the collateral would be too high."
"Exactly," Li Feng said. "Perfect place to lay low and make some cash. Problem is, they don't let strangers in without a job trial. You prove you're useful, you get a pass. You flake or you betray, you disappear."
Ren leaned forward. "What kind of job?"
Li Feng grinned—half excited, half nervous.
"There's a courier run tonight. High-risk, high-pay. Smuggling a sealed essence vial—mid-grade, stabilized—from a drop point in Akihabara to a buyer in the Current's main hub under the old Sumida warehouse district. The vial's tagged with a tracer that only activates if it leaves a certain radius. So you can't just Shadow Step the whole way. You have to walk it, blend in, dodge patrols. Pay is fifty mid-grade crystals—enough to buy new IDs, a burner apartment, and six months of burner phones."
Aoi's expression tightened. "Smuggling essence is a class-4 felony under the Accord. If we're caught—"
"We won't be," Ren said quietly. "Not if we do it right."
She looked at him—long and hard.
"This is the gray zone, Ren. The place where good intentions go to die. Once you start running jobs for the Current, you're not just hiding anymore. You're part of the ecosystem."
Ren met her gaze without flinching.
"I know. But we're already outside the law. We can't eat hope. We need resources. Allies. A way to breathe long enough to plan something bigger."
Aoi exhaled slowly.
Then she nodded—once, decisive.
"Okay. But we do it together. No solo heroics. And if it starts feeling wrong—if it crosses a line we can't come back from—we walk. Immediately."
"Deal."
Li Feng clapped once—sharp, relieved.
"Perfect. I'll set the meet. You two gear up. Civilian clothes only. No visible runes, no spears, no obvious shadows. Look like broke uni students running late-night errands."
Akihabara at 9:47 p.m. was electric chaos: holographic idols dancing on building sides, touts shouting about limited-edition figures, salarymen staggering out of hostess bars. Ren and Aoi blended perfectly—hoodies, cheap backpacks, earbuds in (no music playing).
The drop point was a narrow maid café alley. A girl in a plain tracksuit—nothing flashy—slipped Ren a small padded case the size of a paperback. No words. Just a quick nod and she vanished into the crowd.
Ren tucked the case inside his hoodie, zipped it tight.
Aoi walked half a step behind him—close enough to cover, far enough to look casual.
They headed east, toward the river.
First checkpoint: a Purification drone sweep over Chūō-dōri.
Ren felt the Anchor steady him. He slowed his breathing, let the blue rune pulse once—soft, grounding. The drone passed overhead without slowing.
Aoi's hand brushed his lower back—brief, reassuring.
They kept moving.
Second obstacle: a low-grade Pagan lookout near Kuramae Station. Leather jacket, silver fox pin half-hidden. He eyed them too long.
Ren activated a faint Shadow Veil—just enough to blur their edges in the sodium light. The lookout blinked, shook his head, looked away.
Aoi whispered, "Nice."
They crossed the bridge over the Sumida. Neon reflections danced on black water.
The warehouse district loomed—dark, skeletal buildings tagged with faded graffiti. Li Feng's instructions led them to a rusted service door under the third building from the left.
Ren knocked: two slow, three fast.
The door cracked.
A man in his late thirties—scar across one eyebrow, faint violet glow around his left hand—looked them over.
"New runners?"
Ren nodded. "Li Feng sent us."
The man grunted. "Case."
Ren handed it over.
The man opened it just enough to verify the vial—pale green liquid swirling inside—then closed it.
"Clean run. No tails. No drama. You're in."
He stepped aside.
Inside: a cavernous basement lit by hanging LED strips. Tables covered in essence-working tools, laptops, maps. Thirty or forty people—mixed ages, mixed signatures—moving with quiet purpose. No one stared. No one asked questions.
A woman with short silver hair and a cybernetic left arm approached.
"Call me Rin. I handle intake for the Current. Li Feng vouched. That's rare. Means you're either very good or very desperate."
"Both," Aoi said evenly.
Rin's eyes flicked between them—lingering on the faint resonance hum that even non-vessels could sometimes sense when a Pagan and Miracle stood too close.
"Interesting pair. We don't care about your personal theology as long as it doesn't interfere with business. Rules are simple: no killing on our turf, no selling intel to the Order or the big syndicates, pay your cut on every job. Break any, you're gone. Permanently."
Ren nodded. "Understood."
Rin handed them two small black cards—embedded chips, no names.
"Temporary passes. Good for thirty days. Prove you're worth keeping, we talk permanent. First job's done—your cut's already in an anonymous account. Twenty-five crystals each. Use the back stairs. There's a crash pad on sub-level 2. Shower, bed, no cameras."
She turned to leave—then paused.
"One last thing. Word's spreading fast. Purification bumped your priority level to crimson this morning. Saint Kurosawa himself signed the escalation order. They're not just hunting anymore. They're offering amnesty to anyone who brings either of you in—dead or alive."
Aoi's hand found Ren's—tight.
Rin's gaze softened—just a fraction.
"Get some rest. Tomorrow we talk about what you're really running from… and what you might be running toward."
She walked away.
Ren and Aoi stood there a moment longer—surrounded by strangers who didn't care who they were, only what they could do.
Then they headed down the back stairs together.
Sub-level 2 was quiet: rows of curtained sleeping pods, communal showers, a small kitchenette.
They claimed the last pod—bare mattress, thin blanket, single bulb.
Aoi closed the curtain.
In the dim light she turned to him.
"We just joined the underground current of Tokyo's shadow world."
Ren pulled her close—arms around her waist.
"Yeah."
She rested her head against his chest—right over the Anchor rune.
"I thought I'd feel dirty. Compromised. But I don't."
"Me neither."
She looked up—sunrise eyes steady.
"Because we're still us. And we're still fighting—for something better than just survival."
Ren kissed her forehead.
"Tomorrow we start building."
"Tomorrow," she agreed.
They lay down together—fully clothed, too wired to undress—holding each other like lifelines.
Through the Resonance Echo, Ren felt her heartbeat sync with his.
Steady.
Strong.
Not safe. Not yet.
But for the first time in days—maybe weeks—they weren't alone.
Essence Level: locked at 7.1 (reinforced – Anchor active)
Daily draw cap: 65% (reset at midnight – 100% available)
Current status: Provisional members of the Current – Fugitives Phase 2 (embedded & building)
End of Chapter 13