Taking some steps over to the doorway the neon sign is hanging over, you skim over what it says...
"FLOWERS AND TEARS OFFICE. INFORMATION FOR A PRICE. OPEN 24/7, 365/YEAR. CUSTOMER CONFIDENTALITY 100% CONFIRMED."
Hm? Interesting, you know about Offices (Groups of Cleaners who work together on very risky missions in exchange for incredibly high pay) but you never really visited one yourself. You guess you technically run an unofficial one given the contacts you have? You'll call Wiltshire after you're done investigating here. You step through the neon-lit doorway.
https://youtu.be/q0I42R0pcoI - FLOWERS AND TEARS
It's small inside. Real small. Probably only double the size of your own small, dingy apartment. A thick cloud of smoke hangs over the tightly packed office you find yourself in. Most of the floor space has been taken up by office cubicles and chairs, leaving only one small table in the corner for someone to sit down at and a check in counter with an incredibly bored android sitting at it.
There's only five other people, besides the android, in this whole office. A sloshed H-Corp Cleanser, two chattering Drones who are holding each other's hands, and three regular humans who are busy trying to smoke their lungs out to avoid thinking about what's going on.
"If you wanna buy info, wait a moment, we're busy recovering from fuckin'..." One of the humans, a pale man with bright cyan eyes, snaps his fingers. "a failed mission involving some P-Corp facility."
You raise an eyebrow but you nod, heading over to the one unoccupied table. You open up your W-CORP CATALOG, ready to skim through it for shit to buy, when you take a moment to listen to what the Cleaners are chattering about.
"I told you that we shouldn't have followed that Aster guy's advice. Him and that faggot sister of his. Amber something. Krakatoas are untrustworthy motherfuckers. <span class="mu-b">521 Association assholes...heard some nasty rumors about them. That some are SHIFTers or somethin'?</span>"
The Cleanser suddenly snaps out of his drunken stupor. "DO YOU TRUST THOSE NONSENSICAL RUMORS? NO ONE MANIFESTS PARADIGMS ON THEIR OWN. IT'S SIMPLY NOT SOMETHING CITYSLICKERS DO. BESIDES, DOESN'T EXCUSE THE FACT THE P-CORP REFINEMENT MACHINES ARE TO BLAME FOR LAST MISSION'S FAILURE. <span class="mu-b">ONLY STRONG MINDS CAN HANDLE IT AND FEH! LOOK AT THE PEOPLE AROUND THE CITY!</span>"
"At least it's fucking better than that APEX PREDATOR shit! No one has been able to fight that god damn thing! <span class="mu-b">Hell, I heard rumors that the damn thing is actually immortal. Even if you 'kill it', you only have so long until it gets back up.</span>" A woman with only her jacket and bra on rambles outloud.
"Frankly, I think we should start working with those N-Corp guys again. <span class="mu-b">Apparently their holy artifacts are actually given power by a God of the City.</span> That and, well, <span class="mu-b">apparently they're not that bad to work with? They're pretty good in terms of alphabet companies.</span>"
