"Same as always?" Chen Mo asked.
The auto-door sensor chimed at 3:33 AM. Two tones, slightly out of phase, the upper one a fraction sharp. Chen Mo heard it over the hum of the coolers and opened one eye but did not sit up. He was behind the counter of the Neo-Mart on Route 62 outside Neo-Yangzhou, trying to sleep on a folding chair that had never been designed for human comfort. The door opened. Footsteps. Slow, measured. The...
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