We know the res-tech is housed in the heart of Dracogenics HQ. Poor people lose their bodies to let it happen, fed into the process like factory parts. Rich assholes in suits get to live forever. When your meat-body dies, they just download you into a new one. If you're rich enough and important enough, they can save you, like a file. Our main target is Dracogenics' ace up their sleeve res-tech. Dracogenics is the big dog on the corporate porch. Corporations run it all, sneering at us through neon and advertisements, with the fatcats living up high, and everyone below them, well, literally below them Downstream, where all their waste drips, day in and day out. They build new skyscrapers on the bones of old ones, pile new levels on, try to reach higher and higher, turning the whole thing into as many tunnels as towers. Every generation or so, the City just gets bigger, taller, more complicated and deadly. I know you're all good at your jobs, and might not want my help, but they hired me for a reason.
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