Bang!
The tavern doors were kicked open. The numb patrons could not even be bothered to look up at the new arrival. They kept pouring alcohol down their throats, trying to numb their chrome nerves with liquor, so they could at least get a little farther away from this shitty reality.
The bartender raised his rough electronic eye and glanced at the "scrapper" carrying homemade firearms and chains wrapped around his arms. The latter approached the counter with his female companion, tossed down a fluorescent bottle cap, and said with practiced ease, "Vodka on the rocks in a shot glass, mixed with Little Cola. And a cup of hot water for the lady."
"Regrettably, we don't have anything that fine."
The bartender shrugged and served Li Aoz a mug of lukewarm beer and a cup of hot water. "You know, David, I'd say you've got the best taste of any scrapper. This one's on me."
Qiu Ran looked at the white limescale floating at the bottom of the wooden cup and hesitated. The surroundings made her question the source of the water.
"Thanks, buddy."
Li Aoz picked up his glass but did not hurry to drink. Through his mask, he glanced at the old man beside him, who was adjusting a revolver. His gaze settled on the silver-gray handgun in the man's hand as he asked:
"Desperate Gamble—was that made in '199?"
"Hyperion Armory."
The old man was unshaven and utterly dispirited. He answered perfunctorily:
"Scrappers like you probably wouldn't be interested in anything made within the last thirty years, would you?"
"Weapons are the exception. Only fire and Kalashnikovs can bring a little warmth to people in this cold era."
Li Aoz smiled faintly.
"The Righteous Dawn Democratic Republic is the most peaceful of the Four Nations, yet its