The gang passed the scan without issue.
The only problem was with Leo.
Because he didn't have a neural slot, nor any cyberware modifications in his body, biometric scans were ineffective on him. This was the first time such a situation had occurred.
The receptionist, drenched in sweat, had no idea what to do. In the end, they had no choice but to use a decades-old traditional method that had long since been phased out—calling out every doll in Clouds and letting Leo choose one himself.
Of course, this approach came with risks. Without big data analysis, it could result in customer dissatisfaction. But there was no alternative. A paying client shows up, and you can't provide data-matching service—there's no world in which that's the client's fault. You couldn't just refuse service.
Once everyone had made their selection, the receptionist looked over the weapons they were carrying.
"Apologies, Clouds has a strict zero-weapons policy. Please leave all dangerous items here with me. Don't worry—your adult toys are perfectly safe in our care."
Everyone turned toward Leo. He gave a slight nod and was the first to place his weapons in the storage locker.
Not that it mattered—they were all wearing custom ballistic combat suits. And just Lucy alone was an expert in net warfare: electromagnetic shorts, cyberware overheating, forced eye resets, neural crash commands—she had every tool imaginable.
Whoever she glared at might as well be dead.
Who said you couldn't kill without a weapon? It was like watching the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception in action.
"Thank you. We hope you enjoy our service."
Inside were individual private rooms, each marked with a number. Everyone in the group was handed a corresponding number.
Cloud's system assigned these and distributed them accordingly based on each customer's scanned profile.
But they hadn't come to enjoy themselves.
They were here to find the one called Woodman.
The detective didn't know where Evelyn had gone, which meant the manager of Clouds—Mr. Forrest, better known by his nickname "Woodman," had to know.
Woodman's office was located behind the VIP lounge on the second floor.
Normally, one would need to find a way into the VIP area before accessing Woodman's office.
But Leo had a better idea.
"This way."
He moved as if walking through his own home, taking the lead and heading left. V and Lucy shut down the surveillance cameras in the room corridor as they passed.
When they passed Room 07, voices could be heard from inside.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing here? You forget it's work hours? Get back to your own booth."
"I just need to ask you one thing. Say yes and I'll go."
"What? Spit it out and cut the crap. If we get caught, both our asses are fried. I don't want people thinking I'm screwing around with you."
"Can we switch shifts on Saturday, man?"
"No way, forget Saturday."
"Come on, I'm begging you."
"Keep dreaming. Saturday's a goddamn nightmare."
"Fuck! Aren't we bros? My kid ran away from home."
"Then go find him. Maybe you'll get lucky and find him before Saturday."
"I know where he is. Scavs took him. I need to borrow money from my parents on Saturday to pay them off. If I don't, those psychos will toss him into a shredder. I'm begging you on my knees here, man."
"…Fine."
Ignoring the argument inside, the group reached the far-left end of the corridor. There was an access-restricted elevator there, which could only be activated with an access token—something only Woodman and a few high-level staff had.
But they didn't need a token.
"Lucy. It's yours."
Leo, Jackie, and V stood guard outside while Lucy crouched in front of the elevator, connecting her personal interface to the nearby terminal. She began hacking.
Half a minute later, the hack was complete, and the elevator doors slid open.
Leo glanced around. No one had noticed them.
The group entered the elevator one by one. It ascended, opening onto a dim, silent hallway—quiet and eerie. Woodman's office lay at the very end.
…......
...
.
Inside the luxuriously decorated office, Woodman had his feet up on the desk, holding a double-stacked, sauce-dripping beef burger. Suddenly, the computer chimed.
With greasy fingers, he tapped at the screen. A message had come in from some girl named Jerrie O'Connell.
—"About the job at Clouds, give me a reply. Other places are offering too. I'm not waiting around forever. Say something."
Woodman curled his lip in disdain. He remembered the name—some idiot woman who had turned down his offer for a night together. And she still wanted to work at Clouds?
What was that chick's brain made of—mashed paste?
He typed out a reply on the virtual keyboard and sent it:
—"You're mistaken. Hiring's not my department. Send in a resume."
The reply came back quickly.
"Oh, now I need to send in a resume? That's not what you said last time when you were trying to fuck me, asshole."
Woodman glanced at the message without even flinching. Not a spark of anger. That kind of insult was child's play to him.
He didn't bother to argue. Who the hell was he?
Every minute of his time was worth hundreds of eurodollars.
Wasting it on a flame war with some moron chick?
He muttered, "Dumb bitch," then casually blacklisted her.
Just as he was thinking about which doll to blow off some steam with tonight, the office's side door suddenly opened.
"Hey! Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?"
Woodman looked at the four strangers stepping inside—two men, two women—and his instincts screamed trouble.
That side elevator was always disabled. Only he and a handful of Clouds higher-ups had access tokens.
Not even the dolls or Tyger Claws could use it.
How did these people get up here?
"You're Forrest? Nickname Woodman?"
"I can forgive the intrusion, but… I don't recall having any appointments today."
"You just need to answer a few questions. After that, we'll be gone."
Woodman's face darkened. He set down his burger and stood up from his chair, walking to a cabinet against the wall. A desk lamp atop it emitted a soft golden glow.
"If I were you," Leo said coldly, "I wouldn't reach under that cabinet for the gun."
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