I am patrolling the food market that has formed between the tsunami wall and the Kokura arcology, keeping my robotic gait in line with my 'propriety' protocols despite the gritty and chaotic environment, when my visual subunit detects something in the stream of people around me: young adult female; cybergoth apparel; shape of firearm under jacket; vanishes into dark alley. My procedural logic kicks in, and my neuralinked verbal co-processor sends an alert: "Unit DD62, requesting direct control."
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