Blade Runner 2050: Generation Reborn

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭

It felt heavy in his hand, a feeling he hadn't felt since the first time he held a pistol as a child.
But it was done; finally. Blood chalked his face along with the few remnants of what used to be his suit. He let out a soft scowl. They promised that the job would be clean, possibly even trouble-free, but that was far from it.

Quickly he got to work disposing of the body, pulling out the latex gloves that littered his pocket haphazardly. The woman lay sprawled out in front of him, her pale skin gleamed in the cloudless night sky, along with the skimpy blue sequin dress that hugged her curves a little too tightly. She was never meant to die, but she just got tangled in the wrong situation, just like the rest of them.

It was weird. They all seemed to exhibit the same values and traits, but that's how they were all designed to be. Simple pleasure models. So why should he even care if another one of them wound up dead on the streets? He doubted the law enforcement would care if one of their kind was anyway.

But he cleaned it up, his excuse being it was better safe than sorry.
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Hayato Takahashi was a strange man. By day, he was responsible for running a small restaurant tucked into the crevices of the huge city, and by night, he was one of the largest known weapon suppliers in Los Angeles. How hadn't he been caught? Well, that was a question for later.

"What brings you here, Anderson?" Takahashi spoke with a soft voice. The room he sat in was dingy, lit only by a single beam of blue light from the ceiling. It was a place for shady business deals, not some palace made for the rich.

"In need of a new double-barreled blaster," Anderson replied with a gruffness to his voice. "Other one was twisted to bits, unfortunately." he finished, holding up the blaster that was misshapenly twisted by one of the barrels. "I could use a new .50 caliber sniper rifle V7 as well," Anderson added.

Takahashi nodded, "Rough day at work suppose," he trailed off as he entered the backroom for the weapons. "Almost seems like they're human by the way they act," he said to Anderson from the backroom.

"I had one beg me to spare its life today," Anderson let out un-emotionless, trailing off on his words as he looked around the room. "It was one of the Nexus-10 female pleasure models."

Takahashi emerged from the backroom with two boxes in his arms. "It's gonna cost double today," he spoke as he opened up the two boxes containing the weapon and its components.

"Shit," Anderson mumbled as he fumbled for his wallet through his coat pocket. "What's with the change in price?" plucking the wallet out of his coat, he threw the money down onto the table.

"Haven't been earning as much money from this night job," grabbing a cigarette lazily from his pants. "Less, and less people have been walking through my doors," he spoke with a hint of annoyance, before lighting up the cigarette. "Probably because of all the word spreading around about the new world order," he chuckled at his statement. His eyes locked with Anderson, his face dropping in seriousness.

"They say,"

"Something big is coming."

Anderson pulled out a seat sitting down in it, before grumbling, "What exactly is coming?"

"Well,"

"I don't know what 'it' is", shaking his head back and forth. "But they say that it will change life as we know it," he whispered. Takahashi looked down at his fingers for a brief moment before speaking, "Who exactly are the targets you kill?"

"Don't think I'm allowed to disclose that," Anderson said seriously. "I'm privately hired to kill my targets by anonymous payers." he eyed Takahashi.

"No," Takahashi whispered hastily. "Are your targets human or replicant?"

"Human. What use is it to waste my bullets on a replicant?"

"I see then."

"The only reason I had to retire one today was because it got in my way. It insisted on protecting its corrupt owner." Anderson said nonchalantly. Suddenly a beep erupted from his coat pocket, hastily Anderson pulled it out to check it. "Sorry, I have to go," getting up from his seat.

"I have business to take care of."