He tapped his cigarette on the floor and looked at the cigar ashes at his feet. Waiting for a large blue bottle cap shaped robot to sort his mess.

Not long, a red lettered hologram NO LITTERING message appeared on the top of the city-sweeper. He looked it vacuum the cigarette waste off the floor. He threw the remaining cigarette on the floor.

SMOKE DETECTED appeared on the robot and sprayed a deodorizer at him. The sudden assult of rose prompted him to cough. He wasn't used to it and afraid he won't be.

Beyond this point was the Zuickerbro City; also called the Futuristic City and the others called it the City of Nos. No Smoking. No Littering. No Loitering. No Hacking. No Virus. No Bacteria. No breaking the law.

For him, it was one of the World's Greatest Cities of Post 21st Century War.

But of course, no city is perfect. It had its own dose of corruption, hidden in plain sight. And where that corruption is- is where he exactly needs to be.

The bullet train only took 30 minutes to reach his destination. His eyes took a full minute to adjust on the monochromatic feature of the city. The sudden influx of the deodorizer made him cough. A lot of its cy-tizens had OCD and germaphobia.

One of the policies; no germs.

He thought while inspecting the state of the art bullet train anti-germ deodorizer spurting everywhere; airborne or not from spreading. Not to mention to stop the radiation dust coming from the Forsaken Cities outside the country. The deadliest threat that the Cyber City combats everyday.

"Arrived at Gask Station. Please put your valuables in the clearing box. Thank you."

He grabbed his satchel and put the fedora on while heading towards the Clearing Bay.

"Please step in the Clearing Area."

He stepped into the area, it sprayed a liquid over his body which made his clothes to turn into mush and dripped off his body. Then, he was showered with water to completely get the liquefied clothes out of him.

Next, A white spray had been sprayed to him. His body was in a cotton like fibre.

Cleared. Please get your valuables. Thank you.

A Cleared Text was in front of the box where his things were held.

He took his satchel and he touched his head and forgot that it already disintegrated.

What a waste. He proceed to get out of the station.

Despite its appearance the shiny chromatic grey floors were not slippery. His walk was fast compared to the people around him. He kept on walking turned left on an alleyway; he kept walking until the floors were noticeably not so shiny and the buildings came tad shorter as he went. The smell became less candy citrus and more like a peppermint smoke.

He stepped in Barracuda Bar. He went upstairs unto to the 5th floor not sparing a glance at the center.

He knocked twice. And waited for the response. The door began to lost its color.

His eyebrows shot up. This was new. His friend's door upgraded into a chameleon one. He had no idea how the piece of technology works, but he knew how expensive piece of glass it was.

"Nice." He commented. "You've upgrade without telling me."

"Yeah. Thanks to you I had to upgrade. " His friend snarky reply.

He's still angry.

"Is this the way you greet an old friend?"

"A friend doesn't let others destroy his door."

"And a friend sacrifices his door for a friends' safety." he reasoned.

"It was Mahogany from a Ruined Castle from the 19th Century. Imbecile. " Malcolm sighed. "What do you want?"

Detective Nova smiled.

"I want you to track a smart phone chip." he said. Malcolm kept looking at him. Expecting. When he realized he won't talk.

"It was one of my cases." He revealed.

"No." The glass returned to its door image.

"Come on. Open up." He opened his satchel and shown to him the city-sweeper in his bag. "I think the Government won't forgive you if they tracked this in here. Too bad they knew you want it."

The City-Sweeper holographic image changed to : SET ME FREE. I'M A PUBLIC PROPERTY

"Why did you get that?"

"For you. With my new satchel." He showed it more." The oldest model of the City Sweeper series from the outskirts of the Old City. Older than your Grandfather's first fart."

Malcolm seemed to recognize the insides of his bag. He gave a deep sigh and pushed the buttons.

The Door seemed to disappear. He tried to touch it using his fingers and it was really gone.

"Nice but scary."

"Doors don't bite, Cass." He retorted. "You are also using those scary technology."

"Touche."

He got his Alien Mask off of his face revealing a more younger one. The same age as his friend Malcolm- at middle twenties. He put it down the table near the typing mechanical hands. He massaged his face.

Like its name suggests, the mask felt like your face was being sucked by a alien facehugger. It's the price that you need to pay by using a morphological changing mask.

Even now, using it for how many years. He can still feel the drawbacks even using it for how many years now.

He handed the City Sweeper to Malcolm.

"Let's make you untraceable, Baby." Malcolm gently turned gently. He started to unscrew its protective cover.

Detective Nova noticed he was using a different I.P. this time. Another fake one.

He waited for him to finish messing with the City Sweeper.

"Here's the watch. The prankster's signal came through at last week at 1am." Detective Nova said as soon as he was done.

"Let me make a quick check." Malcolm quickly connected the Watch to his. "The signal's weak. It didn't came from any cell sites. It will take a day to trace the call."

"Then, I'll wait. The lunch and dinner's on me."