Thousands of years after Earth became uninhabitable, humanity colonized other planets and moons around the solar system. Amid rising crime rate, the Galactic Space Force (GSF) set up a legal contract where registered bounty hunters (known as Coyotes...
Planetary News: A man known as Mr. Shoelaces is wanted by the police in Victoria City, Jupiter, for stealing shoelaces from shoes left unattended too during prayer hours in multiple religious gatherings.
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Wolf tapped his heels on the steel floor and drummed his fingers on the chair's arms. Streams of cold sweat descended his neck, sending shivers down his spine, raising the hair on his arms and legs. Thirty minutes had passed since they left him alone in the room.
"Crows with balls!" A rolling feeling gripped his stomach, making his muscles quiver. "I shouldn't have come here." He tried swallowing his saliva, but the lump in his throat prevented it. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should've listened to Wednesday."
A great whoosh echoed through the room, followed by a click. Wolf couldn't see what was happening—the helmet on his head blocked his vision, leaving him in total darkness.
Indistinct voices and footsteps filled the room. But as they neared him, he heard them loud and clear, enabling him to tell them apart.
"Yo! Get it off that bitch," Skully said.
A beep and click came from his helmet, then it deconstructed into a collar, the metal moving from his head to neck. Wolf looked away from the room's bright light with narrowed eyes, waiting for them to readjust to his environment. When he could see clearly, he faced forward.
Skully, Two-Face, and Hannibal stared at him. His heart stuttered as their seven-foot figures shadowed him. He swallowed his fear—the acidic taste in his mouth ran down his throat and burned his racing heart—before clenching his jaw. He hated how they always looked down on him as if he was an insect. Just because they were rich and powerful didn't make them better than him. If he knew the right people and had connections all over the system, then he would have been where they were.
Skully narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips, hinting at his annoyance with Wolf. And as much as Wolf feared him, he admired the cyborg's fashion; the long white fur coat, black miniskirt and fishnet stockings, and white high-heeled boots made him look like a rockstar.
In fact, Skully was a celebrity, but for the wrong reasons.
"I gave you time to think, half-breed. Now, where are my credits?" Skully started calling Wolf a half-breed after he discovered the man was biplanetarian—someone born from parents of different planets.
"Skully, my dear, dear, cyborg-I-don't-want-to-piss-off," Wolf shrilled before clearing his throat, his heart's pace increasing. It would explode if he didn't calm down. "Where are your credits, you ask?"
Skully took a step forward, his silver skin glimmering under the room's light. His glowing eyes—black pupils and red irises—and the two goat-like gold metallic horns on his forehead gave him a demonic appearance. He had been a cyborg since the age of eight after his parents sold his organs and flesh for drug money.
