Most of those gangsters are android-hating maniacs

"10,000 CRD, take it or leave it."

"That's far too cheap. Market price is 50,000 CRD and more considering scarcity in AIKA."

The interior of the pawn shop is brightly lit with ceiling lamps. Display cases are filled with a variety of jewelry, antiques, and expensive machine parts. Eyes, arms, and other cybernetic replacements line up the inner portion of the shop. Trendier gadgets, devices, and android modules are exhibited by the large window facing the road.

Two security model androids stand on guard at either side of the entrance. They observe me as I converse with the shop owner. Picaro stands behind reinforced glass, his arms crossed. The bald man is visibly in his late forties, the wrinkles on his forehead and face are made more apparent by his grouchy expression. His cybernetic right eye juts out, similar to a watchmaker's loupe. On his left cheek is a fresh bruise, oddly similar to the one Gin had a few weeks ago.

"Go sell it yourself then! Put a listing on the metanet for all I care. You pawn it here, it's 10,000 CRD."

"Can you at least tell me why it's so low?"

"Do you have proof that it's genuine?"

"....."

"Proof that it's unused? Absolutely mint-condition?"

"....."

"People come here trying to sell rPhones and other fake shit all the damn time. If I sell them at market price and there's something wrong with them, my reputation will take a hit. If I sell them for cheaper, then I'll just come off as shady."

You already do though.

"This is a legitimate business. You want a legitimate price, give me something legitimate. Otherwise, hand it over and take the 10k."

I look around until I spot the aforementioned rPhones. Each one has a holo-tag displaying their prices. Various sizes and models sit next to one another, some of which have painted or modded cases.

...I'm not detecting any of these.

"These phones are turned off. Completely."

"...You a cop?"

"...? No, I'm not. I'm just... particular with technology. It's... a unique deviation."

"Mm, well, anything mechanical that comes through here has to be reformatted and shut off. Whatever they may or may not have been used for, I don't want anything to do with."

"Has someone sold you an rPhone738XL in the past week?"

"Like I said, people sell me phones all the time."

A glint of suspicion flashes in his squinty eyes.

"I'm not trying to be nosy... A co-worker of mine went missing and we can't contact her."

"File a missing person report to the cops then. Let them do their job. I can't just give customer information to anyone who asks for it."

"Right... Sorry."

"...Were they involved with the gangs?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Are you?"

"What? No."

"Yeah I guess not huh. Most of those gangsters are android-hating maniacs. Was your friend an android?"

"No."

"Then I don't know what to tell you. You selling or what?"

Picaro shrugs, his face a little more relaxed.

"I think I'll hold on to it for now."

"Suit yourself. Did you come here by yourself?"

"...Why the question?"

"Streets are dangerous. More than usual, I mean. Especially for your kind."

"...I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for your time."

I turn away and head for the exit. The two security androids keep their eyes fixated on me. Unlike me, their faces are smooth and blank aside from the two eye slits. Their bodies are also put-together, mismatched replacement parts here and there.

As I exit the store, my eyes adjust to the sudden brightness of the rising sun. The higher buildings cast tall shadows and between them the rays of light shower warmth on the cold damp pavement.