Victor’s lungs burned. The droid’s faceplate opened, revealing a whirring drill-bit tongue. “Absolution… denied,” it buzzed.

The lights went out.

He moved like smoke. The droid’s head swiveled, scanning. Victor hugged a cooling vent, watching the progress bar on his wrist-mounted pad: 72%.

The rain fell in sheets, slicking the neon-soaked streets of Chicago’s Lower Wacker Drive. Victor Novak, a ghost even among ghosts, stared at the flickering screen of his burner laptop. The job was simple: eliminate the target, vanish. But the tools had failed.

He stumbled to the terminal. A new file sat on the desktop: CONTRACT_47 – The Last Laugh.exe . No description. Just coordinates—to a penthouse where his true target waited.

Victor dropped to the floor, coughing. The droid powered down like a loyal dog.

With his last free hand, Victor yanked the USB from his wrist-pad and jammed it into a slot on the droid’s neck.