“Of course you don’t.” He reached into his jacket—not for a weapon, but for a data chip. “Here is my entertainment. Decrypt this. Now. Or the bomb in your heel detonates.”
“Honda-sama,” she purred, stepping forward. “I’m Momo. Here to entertain you.”
She sat. The core’s hum vibrated through her ribs. -DS-She Went to Entertain Her Client-Honda Momo...
The room was sterile. No champagne, no dimmed lights, no velvet chaise. Instead, a single metal table held a polished, fist-sized object—a fusion reactor core, humming with a faint blue light. And behind the table, a man in a grey suit sat motionless, his hands folded.
“Entertain you?” she said, picking up the chip. “Let me show you what I can really do.” “Of course you don’t
Momo stared at the chip. Then at the fusion core. Then at the man who was no client—but a desperate father.
Static.
“I’ll find your daughter’s memories,” Momo said, standing. “But when I do, you’re going to help me kill the man who sold me out.”
Momo’s smile never wavered. “I don’t know what you mean.” Here to entertain you
Outside, the rain stopped. The neon still bled. And Momo, the entertainer who was never just an entertainer, walked out of the penthouse with a new client, a new purpose, and a bomb in her heel that was now a promise.
Honda nodded once. “Deal.”