Heartthro:B To:Wn

Shinku entered the information center. His eyes were sharp, focused on his mission, striding toward a nearby crime analyst.

“I’m Officer Shinku,” he said, flashing his badge. “I need a graphic of all of District 1. Include every outstanding report with the name ‘Takuza,’ along with the time each report was filed and the population demographics of those areas.”

The analyst, a wiry young woman, didn’t even look up as she nodded. “Give me five minutes.”

“Five minutes?” Shinku pressed, his tone urgent.

The analyst glanced at him, smirking. “Five minutes.”

Her hands flew across the keyboard, data pouring onto her screen faster than Shinku could follow. True to her word, she looked up just four minutes later. “Done. Grab it from the printer”

Shinku blinked, genuinely impressed. “Thank you,” he said earnestly before rushing to retrieve the file.

Back in his apartment, Shinku leaned over his table, studying the graphic. Showcasing a detailed map of District 1. Each red marker represented a report involving “Takuza,” while the overlay displayed population demographics.

One area caught his attention immediately—Heartthrob Town, the nightlife district.

“Seventy-five percent hybrids,” he muttered, leaning closer. The reports followed a clear pattern. “All between 5 PM and 11 PM… and there’s only one spot left where he hasn’t been reported. This has to be it.”

Shinku stood. “I’m going there now! This is where he’ll strike next!”

He hesitated for a moment, thinking of Roton and the other officers. “I won’t say anything to them,” he decided. “Not until I have undeniable proof that it’s Binar behind all of this.”

The drive to Heartthrob Town felt longer than usual, but Shinku’s resolve didn’t waver. When he arrived, the district greeted him with a symphony of light and sound.

Towering skyscrapers with reflective surfaces loomed over the streets, their façades covered in massive holographic billboards advertising everything from high-end clubs to luxury goods. Neon lights painted the cityscape in electric hues, while artificial fog rolled through the alleys, illuminated by the endless glow. The faint hum of surveillance drones patrolling overhead added to the ambiance.

The streets were alive with activity—crowds of hybrids, humans, and computers moved between clubs shaped like glowing geometric prisms. The bass of music thumped from every direction, blending into a chaotic, intoxicating rhythm.

Shinku took it all in, his eyes scanning for anomalies. He already knew what to look for.

“The fake ‘Takuza’,” he thought. “They always stick out—a thick coat, bulky enough to hide contraband, and no vehicle. They’ll be on foot, blending into the crowd as best they can.”

But finding one suspect in a labyrinth of neon and noise was like finding a needle in a haystack. High-traffic areas were the most likely spots for transactions, and that’s where Shinku focused his attention.

As he turned a corner, his eyes locked on a figure—a man in a trench coat, walking briskly down the sidewalk. The large bag slung over his shoulder looked suspiciously full, with small objects occasionally falling out and scattering onto the ground.

Shinku’s eyes narrowed. “No way…”

The man was clumsy, almost amateurish. “That has to be him,” Shinku muttered. “He’s not even trying to hide.”

Without hesitation, Shinku pulled his car to the curb and jumped out. He held up his badge as he shouted, “Cybersecurity! Stop!”

The man froze before bolting into the crowd, his bag bouncing against his side.

Shinku took off after him, weaving through the throngs of people. He called out again, “Stop right there!”

The suspect glanced back, his face pale and panicked. He pushed harder, shoving past pedestrians as Shinku closed the gap.

“I could take him down now,” Shinku thought, eyeing the energy disruptor at his side. “But no. I need to see where he’s going. If I catch him meeting his buyer, I can get even more intel.”

The chase continued, leading them into the darker, seedier parts of Heartthrob Town. The neon glow faded, replaced by dim, flickering lights. The man suddenly turned into a narrow alley, his figure disappearing into the shadows.

Shinku followed, keeping a safe distance. The man stopped in front of a dingy, run-down building, its cracked walls covered in graffiti. After a quick glance over his shoulder, the suspect slipped inside.

Shinku paused at the corner. “There he goes,” he muttered, his chest pounding with adrenaline.

He stepped forward cautiously, his mind racing. This was it—the lead he’d been waiting for.

The door creaked ominously as Shinku kicked it open, aiming his hydroarm. Inside was a grim scene: a dilapidated club reeking of oil and decay. The walls were coated in filth, and the floor was littered with discarded waste.

“Takuza!” Shinku shouted, his voice echoing through the dingy space. He scanned the room, adrenaline pumping, his finger hovering over the hydroarm’s trigger.

Ahead of him, the fake "Takuza" stood, his figure shrouded in shadows. The bag he carried fell to the ground with a hollow clang, spilling its contents—nothing but worthless scrap metal.

"A decoy?!" Shinku realized, his stomach sinking.

Before he could react further, the air was filled with muffled screams. Shinku turned to see humans restrained, their heads covered with bags, their bodies trembling from torture thet suffered by computer assailants. His breath caught in his throat as his gaze drifted to the walls, where grotesque pieces of human flesh hung like morbid trophies. In the center of the wall was an emblem, drawn in human blood, the haunting insignia of the Human Killers. It read ‘HK’. A faint beeping sound bellowed.

Shinku’s hands trembled as his mind raced. I’m trapped...

From the center of the room, a figure emerged—a sleek, metallic computer shaped like a futuristic pod. Its minimalist design gave it an almost alien appearance, with smooth surfaces, black swirls etched on its sides, and a single antenna protruding from its round head. Two black dots served as its "eyes," giving it an unsettlingly simple expression.

The computer let out a maniacal laugh, its voice cold. “We beat you, Officer Shinku,” it taunted.

Shinku filled with dread as he counted his enemies—fifteen computers, all part of the Human Killers. There was no way he could take them all.

The computer spoke again, its tone dripping with mockery. “We knew you were tracking us, so we decided to set this up. A little... warning.”

Shinku’s eyes darted around the room, taking in the chaos and suffering. The innocent world he had believed in was crumbling before him.

“You won’t stop Binar from completing his mission,” the computer declared, its voice rising in triumph.

Shinku’s chest tightened. “What mission?! What is Binar doing?!”

The computer chuckled darkly. “President Vitron requested that Binar deliver 5,000 pounds of viruses to District 3 through the train station tonight. And you? You were the distraction.”

“Vitron?!” Shinku exclaimed, his voice shaking with a mix of confusion and fury.

The computer came closer, its face inches from Shinku’s. “It’ll all come full circle soon enough, you baboon,” it sneered.

“I’ll stop you!” Shinku shouted, his voice resolute.

He activated his data, a faint, glowing aura emanating around him he prepared to fire his hydroarm. But the computer’s tone turned menacing.

“Don’t move,” it warned. “There are only two seconds left.”

Shinku froze. Two seconds? Two seconds until wha—

The explosion came without warning, a deafening roar that threw Shinku off his feet. Flames and debris erupted from the club, sending him hurtling into the street. The faint beeping sound that had been playing in the background now stopped, its purpose clear.

Civilians screamed and scattered, fleeing the chaos. Shinku groaned, struggling to his feet. One of his arms hung limply at his side, oil dripping from its damaged joints.

“My arm!” he hissed through gritted teeth, clutching at the limb.

The computer emerged from the debris, its sinister tone unwavering. “If it were up to me, I would’ve killed you,” it said. “But Binar requested otherwise.”

Shinku ran cold. “Binar…” he whispered, the name cutting through him like a knife.

The computer continued, its cadence deadly. “If we so much as hear that you’ve breathed a word about this investigation, we’ll find you. And next time, you won’t be so lucky.”

Shinku stood pale, his pride clashing with the overwhelming threat before him.

“Move with caution,” the computer warned, its voice chillingly calm. “We have eyes everywhere. And those eyes are always watching.”

The computer’s laughter echoed as Shinku turned and ran, swallowing his rage and fear.

Binar... His mind raced with memories of the mentor he once idolized, the one who had saved his life. How had it come to this?

Back in his vehicle, Shinku’s fingers fumbled as he initiated a group call.

“Everyone meet at the office, now!” he barked.

“Shinku—” Tackle’s voice began, but Shinku didn’t wait to hear the rest. He hung up, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as he sped toward the station.

This ends tonight, he thought, determination blazing in his eyes.