You're currently sitting at a bar in one of those Noodle 'Shops', little more than a small alcove in downtown New Asia, California. Known as Neon District, it is a slum by all means, syndicate, authoritarian police called the Watch, who always seem to get paid off, Hackers, androids, doctors, scientists, and the everyday man, Amery International, the biotech company, who sold their souls for money, is a few miles away, in all its marble glory, homeless folk, known as Wanderers, "live" in sewers, subways, and the back-alleys, and of course the bureaucrats, who faked elections or gave promises that never came true, arguing all the day and night, both are dark, in their skyscraper, like a white illuminated obelisk glinting with their lights.

It's around midnight and the weather's pouring as it usually does. Neon lights light up the area from other businesses, each vying for a piece of your attention, capitalizing on each milisecond. The Noodle Shop is across the street from a pawnshop, though the street is a bit loose of a term considering it's more of a dirty tight alley. It's also not very busy, but patrons still come and go roughly every twenty minutes, the Noodle Shop has a single waiter/cashier/owner, and two cooks who work diligently for the five customers the small alcove can fit, the only thing keeping the rain off of you is a sheet metal awning as you sit at the stools.