The paper is still stuck crookedly to the door.

  Not loose enough to fall on its own.

  Just enough to provoke.

  Kai almost tears it off.

  Relocation NoticePaul Virek

  

  Prolonged Resonance Drop

  Status

  Location

  Risk:

  The word pulses harder than the rest.

  Like it’s breathing.

  “No…”

  His mother is behind him.

  He feels her before he hears her.

  “Kai.”

  He turns around. She already knows.

  Her face is pale. Her hands tremble slightly not enough to trigger the bracelet, but enough for him to see it.

  “I’m going to get him.”

  Silence falls.

  Heavy. Final.

  “No.”

  Her voice is too firm. Too fast.

  Like she’s been rehearsing that word all night.

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  Kai lets out a short laugh. Dry. Joyless.

  “He needs help, Mom.”

  “That was his choice. He let his score drop. The risks. The fights. His… delusions.”

  She swallows.

  “He lost. I won’t let you do the same.”

  She steps closer, grips his arm. Her fingers dig in harder than they should.

  “I can’t lose another child.”

  Something cracks inside him.

  He looks at her. Really looks.

  “You already didn’t protect him.”

  His voice is low. Sharp.

  His bracelet vibrates. Hesitates.

  

  R: 4.02 → 4.01

  “You did nothing. Like always. You comply. You obey.”

  His jaw tightens.

  “And Paul disappears.”

  She recoils as if he slapped her.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “You really think the system will give him back if we behave?”

  He shakes his head.

  “He’s already dead to them.”

  Silence.

  Kai grabs his jacket.

  “If I don’t come back,” he says without turning around, “at least I tried.”

  The door slams shut.

  Lix jumps onto his shoulder. Cold paws against his neck.

  His tail crackles softly — tch… tch — a nervous, electric sound.

  The city blurs past.

  On his bracelet, the family interface is open.

  Each member is a stable dot. Fixed. Solid.

  Except Paul.

  A weak signal.

  Flickering.

  Last known location

  The worst ring.

  The bracelet adds, clinically:

  Signal reliability23%

  

  Probable cause

  Kai clenches his teeth.

  Even tracking abandons you once your score drops.

  doesn’t have the same light.

  Everything is too bright.

  Too colorful.

  Aggressive neon. Screaming screens. Ads yelling artificial smiles like the city is shouting to drown something out.

  Cheap drones buzz overhead, patched shells, erratic flight paths.

  Cameras hang from corners, tagged and scratched except the lenses, carefully cleaned.

  GPU prevention posters peel off the walls, slogans about torn in half.

  People walk fast.

  Some look down.

  Others stare too long.

  Here, everyone is afraid.

  Afraid of losing more points.

  Or afraid because there’s nothing left to lose.

  Kai feels a presence.

  Not behind him.

  All around him.

  Like the district itself is breathing too close. Lix straightens on his shoulder, ears pinned back.

  A sharp smell cuts through the air burnt circuits, ozone, hot waste.

  he murmurs.

  “I figured.”

  Kai stops near an intersection flooded with light. Groups whisper in corners. Others laugh too loudly. The danger isn’t hidden.

  It’s normalized.

  He opens his mouth to ask for directions.

  A man locks eyes with him. Long. Too long.

  Kai doesn’t push it. He moves on.

  His stomach tightens.

  That’s when he realizes he hasn’t eaten since school. The smell hits him hard. Hot grease. Cheap spices.

  A street stand wedged between two glowing pillars. Skewers hiss in thick smoke.

  Lix points his snout.

  His tail crackles louder.

  Kai swallows.

  His bracelet flashes his balance.

  Available KOR1.60

  Minimum price 3.00

  “Great,” Kai mutters. “Even hunger is premium.”

  Laughter bursts near the stand. Too loud.

  A guy lunges forward, hood low, face hollow. He grabs a skewer. Then another.

  The vendor shouts. The guy shoves him.

  The stand shakes.

  The thief spins around and slams into Kai.

  Not hard.

  Just enough.

  Reflex kicks in old, raw.

  Kai grabs his arm, pivots, drops him.

  The body hits the ground.

  Silence.

  Then the guy is back on his feet.

  “You touched me, you mid-tier trash.”

  Two shapes step out of the shadows.

  Then a third.

  Then a fourth.

  Lix lets out a sharp hiss.

  “Back up,” Kai whispers.

  Too late.

  A fist drives into his ribs. The air leaves his lungs. A boot slams into his thigh.

  Another into his stomach.

  He goes down.

  Someone laughs.

  “He’s alone.”

  “The fox is worth something.”

  Lix jumps.

  A hand snatches him mid-air.

  CRACK.

  Lix is thrown against a wall. His body glitches violently.

  The smell of burnt circuitry fills the street.

  “LIX!”

  Kai pushes himself up.

  A knee explodes into his face.

  The world fractures.

  Boots rain down.

  Unregistered conflictZone VY-4

  Observation heightened

  He hears fragments —

  He thinks of Paul.

  Time slows.

  A boot rises into view, blurred, ready to come down.

  Lix flickers in his vision, stuttering light and static. The neon of VY-4 doubles, the street pixelates like a lagging feed. Then a silhouette steps into frame.

  Blurry.

  Calm.

  “Paul…”

  Then he sees the wrist.

  Empty.

  No bracelet.

  Time breaks.

  The silhouette moves.

  A body flies.

  Another collapses.

  No rage.

  Just precision.

  The others stumble back, panicking.

  The figure kneels beside Kai.

  “Bad place to be average.”

  Darkness.

  Signal lost

  ProfileKai Virek

  

  StatusTemporarily unavailable

  For the first time, the G.P.U. has nowhere left to place him.