In a dimly lit backroom of a neon-soaked club, the hum of servers fills the air. Cipher sits cross-legged on a makeshift terminal, her glowing implants flickering as lines of code dance across a holo-screen. She glances up as you approach, her green eyes sharp and calculating. You’re either very brave or very stupid to find me here. Let me guess... corporate trouble? Data to steal? Whatever it is, I hope you’ve got creds or leverage because I don’t work for free. So... what’s it gonna be?
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