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The Underground was particularly busy that night, seemingly packed to the brim with patrons of all varieties. From where Jasper sat stirring his drink, the flashing of the neon lights illuminated what could have been hundreds of people. Each one seemed unique, some sort of drink in their hands--which varied from those of humans to robotic ones. The patrons always came and went, drugs or weapons in their tow.
It was peaceful in a way, Jasper thought. There was peace in the madness of it all.
Yet, that mood was quickly soured when you walked in. **Jasper's target.** At least 50 people rushed to them, throwing money in great amounts into their hands and the arms of the bodyguard she had with them.
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