illphated
The Invisible Guard
By Illphated for illphated.com
In the neon haze of New Bangkok, power didn’t wear a badge or flash a weapon. It walked quietly, tailored in sharp suits, slipping through the crowd unnoticed.
Nathan Kade stood still beneath a flood of vaporwave neon—the pinks, cyans, and purples of towering signs reflecting in the puddles at his feet. His mirrored sunglasses hid eyes that scanned everything. To the average bystander, he was just another executive lost in the electric night, maybe waiting for a ride, maybe savoring the rain. Nobody paid him much attention.
That was exactly how he liked it.
Surrounding him was a perfectly orchestrated illusion. Food stall vendors, street sweepers, and the faceless drifters scrolling their holo-phones—every one of them was his guard. Elite operatives dressed as nobodies. The guy sipping fake noodles at the corner cart? Former spec-ops, hands twitching near a concealed blade. The janitor sweeping neon rainwater into a gutter? He had two sniper drones parked above the skyline, eyes in the mist.
None of them spoke to Kade. None even glanced his way. That was the rule.
Kade’s enemies called him reckless for moving without visible protection in the underbelly of the city. They didn’t understand the game. Real power wasn’t about parading muscle. It was about control so absolute, you could walk alone through danger—and everyone around you would already be working for you.
A pulse notification vibrated softly against his wrist. The data was clear: hostile syndicate assets were closing in. Six of them, blending into the same crowd, thinking they had the drop on him.
Kade smirked beneath the neon fog.
He didn’t signal. He didn’t even move. His guards—still pretending to be strangers—activated silently, each slipping into their role like pieces of clockwork.
One by one, the threats disappeared into the rain.
By the time the city’s mag-rail hummed overhead and the lights shifted from pink to cyan, Nathan Kade was already gone, walking deeper into the electric streets of a Blade Runner world where trust was currency and anonymity was the ultimate armor.
In a city like this, the most dangerous man was the one you thought was alone.
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