The Neon Noir Void
The rain in New York didn't wash anything away; it only smeared the neon. It turned the streets into mirrors of electric blue and synthetic pink, reflecting a city that had forgotten how to sleep and learned how to bleed in silence. For Marcus, the rain was a countdown. Marcus was a "cleaner." He didn't scrub floors; he scrubbed lives. When the city's elite committed the kind of sins that...
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