Kapitel 23: Marlene, you're too reckless, too young to understand...

Standing beneath the ornate archway of Chinatown's gate, I paused, trying to catch my breath and steady my swirling thoughts. The heavy weight in my chest didn't subside, and I glanced at my biomonitor:

Heart Rate: Elevated, 130 bpm

Stress Levels: High

ASBR Status: Critical, immediate recharge needed

The district around me was a vibrant tapestry of culture and history. Neon signs in Chinese characters glowed against the backdrop of traditional architecture, casting an ethereal light on the bustling streets. The air was filled with the scents of spices and cooking, intermingling with the distant sounds of traditional music.

A memory flickered through my mind – a younger me, wandering these very streets with Uncle Chen, mesmerized by the colorful lanterns and the tales he spun about each alley and shop. Chinatown had always been a place of wonder, much different than sterile corridors of the megablocks.

I clutched the data shard tightly, its cold surface grounding me to the present. The old man's knowledge about my potential job at TriColor Corp gnawed at me. How did he know? His words echoed in my head but between Kristina's surveillance capabilities and this old man's mysterious insights, I didn't know what is more creepy.

With a heavy sigh, I tried to push those thoughts aside. Right now, finding Tom was my priority. I hoped Uncle Chen would have some answers but why do we had to meet here?

The vibrant energy of Chinatown enveloped me as I started walking towards the Jiggling Wing, the familiar sights and sounds offering a small comfort. Yet, underneath it all, a sense of unease lingered. The city, with all its technological marvels and dark corners, felt like a giant puzzle, and I was a piece struggling to find where I fit.

I glanced at the data shard again, wondering what secrets it held. What game was I being drawn into? And how deep did this rabbit hole go?

Walking down the bustling streets of Chinatown, I felt like a foreign element in a tightly-knit community. The locals, engaged in their daily routines, cast curious glances my way, their expressions a mix of surprise and indifference. This was a world unto itself.

As I passed by a neon-lit sex shop, a group of women leaned against the wall, smoking cigarettes. They casually eyed the men walking by with their body language a blend of invitation and apathy. Nearby, a gaggle of kids darted past, giggling mischievously with stolen fruits in their hands, pursued by the angry shouts of a shopkeeper. His rapid Chinese melded into the ambient noise of the street.

Activating my translation processor, the foreign words transformed into understandable phrases in my mind. It was a small comfort, giving me a semblance of connection to this vibrant and chaotic world.

Approaching the Jiggling Wing, the restaurant's traditional façade stood out amidst the modern neon signs. Stepping inside, the room fell into a sudden, eerie silence. Every eye in the place turned towards me, their activities momentarily paused. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken questions and assessments.

A young lady approached me, her face etched with a look of disdain. "This is an ethnic restaurant," she said sharply, her tone implying that I didn't belong.

"I'm looking for Uncle Chen," I replied, trying to maintain a calm demeanor despite her unwelcoming attitude.

At the mention of Uncle Chen, the woman's expression shifted from hostility to caution. The sudden change was mirrored by the other patrons, who slowly resumed their eating and conversations, the tension dissipating as quickly as it had arisen.

The woman hesitated, then motioned for me to follow her. As I walked through the restaurant, the rich aroma of spices and the sound of sizzling woks filled the air, creating a sensory tapestry that was both foreign and familiar.

She led me to a secluded booth at the back, where Uncle Chen sat waiting. As I approached, he looked up, his eyes reflecting a mix of concern and resolve.

"Marlene," he greeted, his voice low and steady. "Sit down. We have much to discuss."

As I sat across from Uncle Chen in the Jiggling Wing, I could sense something different about him. His usual warmth was overshadowed by a sense of guarded urgency.

"Why here, Uncle Chen?" I asked, trying to make sense of the surroundings that felt alien.

Chen exhaled slowly, his eyes bearing a weight I hadn't seen before. "Marlene, Tom is in deep trouble with the Lone Star Gang. He owed them, and now they've got him."

Anger surged within me. "We have to get him out!" I said, my voice firm with resolve.

"Marlene," Chen replied with a calmness that seemed out of place, "it's more complicated. Detective Pierce is also after Tom, but for a different matter."

My suspicion grew. "And what was Tom doing for you, Uncle Chen?" I pressed, needing answers.

He took a slow sip of his tea, avoiding my gaze. "That's not what we need to focus on right now," he replied, his voice low.

I sat back, my frustration boiling over. "Why didn't you tell me all this from the start? What could Tom possibly be doing for you? Fetching vegetables?" My voice dripped with sarcasm.

Uncle Chen remained silent, his focus on the tea cup in his hands.

"How can we help Tom?" I asked, my voice softening slightly.

His response was cold, almost detached. "We can't help him," he said.

I felt a pang of disbelief. "Why? He's our friend. How can you be so cold about this?"

"There are consequences to his actions. He has to face them," Chen said firmly.

Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but I held them back. Standing up, I looked at him. "Is that all you have to say?"

Chen tried to persuade me to sit back down, but I was resolute. In a swift motion, I threw the data shard at him. "Here," I said, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and sadness. "Some old friend of yours gave me this to give to you. I don't know what it is, and frankly, I don't care."

I turned to leave, but a massive figure, resembling a sumo wrestler, blocked my path. "Move," I demanded, my voice laced with frustration.

Chen spoke up. "Marlene, sit. Let's talk."

Ignoring him, I tried to move past the sumo, but he blocked me again. The entire restaurant watched with a mix of curiosity and disapproval.

I slipped on my glove, the electric hum barely audible. "Move, or I won't be so nice," I warned, my hand raised threateningly.

Uncle Chen called out to me, inquiring about the old man who gave me the shard. Ignoring him, I faced the sumo wrestler. In a sudden burst of anger, I aimed a powerful kick at his groin. The sumo wrestler grunted in pain and fell to his knees.

I brushed past him, Chen's voice echoing behind me, "Marlene, you're too reckless, too young to understand..."

Tears streamed down my face as I walked out of the Jiggling Wing, Chen's words and the weight of the situation crushing me.

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