One

Henry had no idea what was the hype about all sorts of things, but the Government's new 'Delicium' drug he especially did not understand—all it did was make people rhapsodic to the point of hysterics, and he swore never to take it the first time he saw someone on it. All he knew that it was that drug that almost caused him to be late on the first day of his job, which probably didn't make him look too well with the bosses. The streets of New Seoul were far too crowded to quickly make one's way through that morning, everyone shoving each other aside with the latest cyborg arms to obtain the new substance that had been released the night prior. He himself had only one prosthetic arm, whilst many had chosen to replace all their limbs with robotic ones.

Most if not all of the city's transport systems, Teleporters included, were jammed with people, so Henry chose to walk the way up to the Department of Secret Services by foot. The little clock on his robotic arm beeped dangerously, signaling that he would be late if he were any slower, and he hastened his pace at that. He arrived at the office exactly on time, much to his relief, though he was slightly out of breath. His eyes flickered around the office, doing a once-over of the clean place, finally stopping upon the receptionist, a half cyborg by the looks of it.

Stiffly he walked towards the front desk to check in, seemingly oblivious to any stares shooting his way. It looked like everyone had been anticipating his arrival greatly, as new recruits were unwonted within the department. Whispers shot back and forth between small groups or pairs like bullets were shot—loudly, powerfully, and in quick succession. They ceased when his eyes met theirs, the more experienced agents getting back to their work.

"Henry Min, reporting," he said curtly with a slight nod. "I apologize for my punctuality." He had been taught since his first day at the Academy that being on time was considered late, the practice of arriving early drilled into his head. 

The receptionist, however, paid no attention towards the time which he had arrived at and let out a hearty guffaw that was by all means inappropriate for a workplace. A thin cigarette—no doubt Delicium—was daintily positioned between two long robotic fingers, giving Henry the impression that his new workplace was rather lax on certain rules. "Oh no, it's alright dear, just report to floor one-hundred. Ask for Seokjin and he'll take good care of you, oh yes," she let out a few slight giggles before returning the cigar to , smoking away.

He found it rather odd that she was smoking in such a public place, especially when she was the one greeting everyone and anyone that happened to come to the building. Even more strange was the amount of people smoking in the reception itself—it looked like it wasn't just the receptionist hooked up on whatever that new drug was. A rare few seemed sober, those of which were about as stiff and stoic as he. He didn't think anymore if it as he slammed the button for the elevator, watching it light up with a florescent yellow, stepping into the metal box with ease.

There was no one else on the elevator except for a lone woman, tall with an air of superiority to her. A shock of dyed silver hair and heavy-set eyeliner made her an intimidating figure right off. From a first glance, it looked like she had been working in the job for an exceptionally long time, and after a second thought, Henry decided that she was one of the more professional ones that did not in fact, smoke on the job. A name tag was not visible, however, causing him to be hopelessly confused on who she might be.

"You're the new recruit, aren't you?" The question came from out of nowhere, the agent looking particularly uninterested—her eyes were focused on her long nails, not him. He had yet to decide whether