the smuggler’s bible

Pluto Vespasianus

He leans back and struggles to tamp down the thought of having a cigarette. It used to be its own species of enjoyment, to practice discipline and martyr himself with good habits. Then one day the pack was empty for real and willpower got balanced out of the equation, leaving desire and absence glaring at each other across an equals sign.

Anything to distract himself. He watches Aoi review mission log data. She’s fast and seriously teched up. Too good for old city rubble-raids with a washout like him. So, why did they send her, he thinks, over anyone else?