DEAD DROP: The Pitch

The clock shines 0213 in red light in the darkness of the room. Through a combination of bad runs, bad luck, and bad blood, your once-impressive running crew is on the decline. You are all that remains of what used to be one of the most respected teams in all of Seattle not five years ago, now living in a decayed loft above an empty and run-down property that used to be some kind of storefront--it's been too long now to tell what kind without taking the time to look. Your only transportation is a secondhand bimbo box on its last legs, you have no job prospects, and your landlord sounds like he's former KGB. You need a payday. Bad.

0214

A face appears on a computer screen, bathing the room in light. You know the face. Used to run the shadows with you in the glory days before your crew leader took a street sweeper to the navel. The message is simple: "If you're hearing this, I'm dead." An insurance policy--a dead man's switch. Someone wanted this runner in the ground, and they knew it. A Revenger Corp contract set up prior to their death promises a beneficiary--usually a friend or, in this case, you--a certain sum of money in exchange for finding the one responsible and dealing the appropriate justice. Apparently your former comrade retired after ditching you and hooked a job at the one of the largest megacorps in the world: the Bellevue Chapter of the Tekken Zaibatsu. Getting involved with a megacorp is always bad news, but that's why people like you exist. Besides, if another corp was behind it, there's always a chance you could slip out with two pay checks--and the first one's not half bad to start with.

Five million credits never hurt anyone, right?