The Creatures that We Are

Mirage Bar, Durian Street, District 4 of Moon City, late at night.

Moon City never slept. Durian Street was packed with young thrill seekers. Bars lined the street alongside a great many fake durian trees. The advertising light fixtures and signs on buildings all incorporated durians as well.

In this age, natural plants and animals were precious resources. Most people lived their entire lives without seeing either, subsisting on artificially synthesized produce. This scarcity bred an obsession with organic life, leading architects to weave botanical motifs into the city's very fabric. Darkhorse Street, where Gao Yang lived, was born of the same yearning.

A luxurious car field by new energy stopped outside Mirage, the bar where the trade would take place. At the door, a group of holographic beauties danced by the street in sensuous clothing.

A half-human went up to welcome the visitors. It was all silver and white with no hair, facial features, genitals, or clothes—an intentional design choice due to the many crises resulting from artificial constructs being made to resemble humans more and more. Almost all nations came to prohibit humanlike constructs by law. They must not be modeled after humans, nor should they be implanted with human-like emotions and consciousness. Any attempt to replicate humans was banned.

That left these simplified constructs serving humans dutifully, nicknamed “half-humans”.

Lithe Snake, the driver, got out of the car first. Wearing a well-tailored suit and a hologram mask, he opened the door respectfully.

A black stiletto emerged first, followed by a long slim leg that clacked against a shallow blue puddle. Vermilion Bird, wearing a red trenchcoat and a holographic fiery bird as a mask, ascended the stairs with fluid grace.

Gao Yang and Gray Bear followed. Both wore black suits and hologram masks, with Gray Bear's hand firmly on Gao Yang's shoulder—a clear display of control.

“Welcome to Mirage. Do you have a reservation, our four honorable guests?” A robotic voice came from the half-human’s chest.

“The Mirror Room.” Vermilion Bird extended her left hand like it was a privilege to hold it.

The half-human gently took her hand and extracted the reservation data from her I Chip.

“Please, this way.”

It stepped back and made a welcoming gesture. The precision of its motion was what signified it as inhuman.

Vermilion Bird led the way, trailed by Lithe Snake and Gray Bear flanking Gao Yang.

As they passed through the translucent barrier, a wall of sound slammed into Gao Yang's eardrums, his temples throbbing with the beat. The scene before him was pure hedonistic abandon.

The central dance floor teemed with heavily augmented youth moving in rhythm. Above their heads, a number climbed rapidly until it hit 99999, erupting in crimson light.

Boom! The number exploded into countless red butterflies, flying into the nape of every dancing patron and entering their S Chip port.

It was a visualization of a data exchange. Through the interaction between the alcohol, music, and emotional data, the patrons received direct stimulation to their brains that gave them a collective euphoria—simply put, they were on an induced emotional high.

“Ahhh!”

The dancers convulsed, heads thrown back in wild screams, faces contorted. It was such a bizarre sight. They were ecstatic, yet to Gao Yang, they seemed like livestock screaming in desperation before getting slaughtered.

Soon, the crowd quieted, standing unmoving like walking dead. Ten seconds of absolute silence stretched into eternity before—boom! Even more frenetic music exploded through the space. Golden tentacles of visualized data sprouted from every S-Chip port, weaving together overhead into a massive, pulsing jellyfish.

Their collective excitement fed the creature's growth. They danced with increasing frenzy, racing toward the next breaking point, the next surge of synthetic euphoria, the next shared emotional climax.

Vermilion Bird led her group through the dance stage toward the booth area. Halfway there, she paused to observe the DJ platform at the heart of the dance floor.

There were three DJs. The one in the middle was the main DJ in charge of the emotional interactions between the patrons, also known as the emotional massagist. The two besides the main DJ were responsible for the music and the hologram light shows.

Ronnie occupied one of the side positions. Though skilled at his craft as a DJ, he usually avoided these gigs unless money ran tight. Tonight, he was here because Vermilion Bird had arranged for one of Mirage's regular DJs to "fall ill."

His eyes met Vermilion Bird's for a fraction of a second before returning to his console.

Vermilion Bird resumed her brisk walk. Soon, Xiran appeared with a tray of alcoholic drinks. He gave Vermilion Bird a polite smile like a waiter should and brushed shoulders with her.

Vermilion Bird soon led her group to the entrance to the booth area. A curvy blond girl in thick makeup had just stumbled away from the bar—Can.

To put on a convincing act, she had given herself an additional six kilograms with attachable simulated muscles, giving herself eye-catching curves in the front and the rear.

Vermilion Bird turned into a corridor bathed in suggestive low light. Stopping at the Mirror Booth, she initiated a knocking on the door.

Ten seconds passed before it opened, revealing Berserking Lion's imposing frame. His hologram mask—a skull crafted from bullet casings—flickered in the dim light. Red prosthetic eyes projected scanning lasers, assessing Vermilion Bird's identity. He then reached out to her S-Chip, attempting a deeper sweep.

Vermilion Bird’s left eye flickered, and she threatened with a frown, “Watch it, kid. I’m not looking to kill someone today.”

Berserking Lion scoffed at the threat but withdrew his probe.

His gaze shifted to the men behind her, lingering on Gao Yang's face. “That’s the ware you’re trading?”

Vermilion Bird nodded. “Fresh out of the rehabilitation center. He woke up after a year of coma. That makes him special.”

“What’s his superpower?” Berserking Lion asked.

“Don’t know. So far, he’s shown the ability to call someone by name at first meeting.”

“Parlor tricks,” the man spat.

“Yes,” Vermilion Bird sneered. “But I don’t care. Just pay me.”

Berserking Lion paused, then demanded, “You’ll bring the ware in alone, woman. Tell your watchdogs to piss off.”

“You’ve got a death wish?!” Gray Bear raged.

“Shut it,” Vermilion Bird snapped, silencing Gray Bear.

“Have a couple of drinks and don’t bother us, you two.”

Under Berserking Lion's watchful gaze, Vermilion Bird gripped Gao Yang's arm and stepped into the booth.

Houseau3's Thoughts

While I get the idea of plants being precious, picking durian for the bar area is certainly a choice🤣

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