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This punk ain’t feelin’ lucky.
It’s 2032 and hacker-for-hire Kiera’s living in the worst cyberpunk future. She’s been gigging her ass off to keep the lights on, chasing cheaters with Angel Herrera, a luddite P.I. who talks like a ’40s movie detective. But that changes when Herrera’s ex-best friend turns up murdered. Their only lead: a stick of Nag Champa incense dropped at the scene.
Next thing Kiera knows, her new crush has disappeared, leaving nothing behind but a severed hand (the real one, not the cybernetic) and the familiar stink of sandalwood. Two crimes, two sticks of incense, Kiera framed for both. She told Herrera to lose her number after the last job, but now the old man might be her only way out of this mess...
It’s 2032 and hacker-for-hire Kiera’s living in the worst cyberpunk future. She’s been gigging her ass off to keep the lights on, chasing cheaters with Angel Herrera, a luddite P.I. who talks like a ’40s movie detective. But that changes when Herrera’s ex-best friend turns up murdered. Their only lead: a stick of Nag Champa incense dropped at the scene.
Next thing Kiera knows, her new crush has disappeared, leaving nothing behind but a severed hand (the real one, not the cybernetic) and the familiar stink of sandalwood. Two crimes, two sticks of incense, Kiera framed for both. She told Herrera to lose her number after the last job, but now the old man might be her only way out of this mess...