Double Edge | WATTYS 2023 SHORTLIST + AMBYS 2023 WINNER

Chapter 01

June 5, 2026

Sunlight poured in through the corner store's front windows. The small convenience shop was busier than usual. The teens flocked through the revolving door, needing Cheetos and Red Bulls. Those old enough bought a pack of cigarettes and grinned at the middle-aged man behind the register.

With my back against the wall by the two-day-old newspapers and gossip magazines, I tore my gaze away from the afternoon light and stared at the kids. They crowded together, waiting for the last of the group to grab her chocolate and Gatorade. She was timid, nervously glancing around the store as she tucked her wavy brown hair behind her ear. My brow inched high. They stole something, didn't they?

"Is that all, miss?" the man at the register asked. He gave the teenage girl a toothy smile. She quickly looked away. That time I wasn't sure if it was because of nerves or Old Man Slim's breath. I knew firsthand sometimes he smelled like teeth-nicotine mixed with dental plaque. But he was older; I had excused that. The man had my respect.

"That's all," the girl muttered. She tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. And another. The group behind her moved closer, laughing loudly, punching each other.

Both of my eyebrows shot up. She wasn't the distraction; they were. I did the same thing when I was their age. Loud, obnoxious, waiting for the eyes of authority to focus on the commotion rather than the crime. If only they knew I was watching.

"Well, if that's everything," Old Man Slim tapped the register and popped the cash drawer open, "it'll be $8.59. Cash only."

I waited for a second. The teen with her hoodie hanging off her arms struggled to reach her back pocket. Her fingers slipped into the opening. But there was nothing there. She wasn't going to pay.

I eyed the boys behind her. The cigarette buyer was the initial piece of the crime. He was the evidence that cash was available. If he bought something, it only meant his friends would have money, too. If they didn't, he would pay, wouldn't he?

No. Mr. Cigarettes wouldn't. He was just the oldest kid, the tallest kid. And by the looks of it, he was the pack's leader. He reminded me of someone. Me.

"I, um...." The girl by the front counter looked back at Old Man Slim and shook her head. "I...."

There. I saw it. Mr. Cigarettes looped around the group and pressed his hand into his sweater pocket. He paused as the girl muttered again. Old Man Slim was a little impatient. "You what?" He squinted. "No money?" His gaze lifted as he looked at Mr. Cigarettes instead. "Are you going to pay?"

"No." Mr. Cigarettes pushed his hand, still hidden by his pocket, forward and moved closer to the counter. "But you'll give me the money in the register."

The crime was inevitable; I saw it a mile away. Should I have acted sooner? Yeah. Could I have? Most definitely. Paxton's enhancements gave me enough speed, enough reflexes, and insights beyond human capability, but there was no reason to react quickly. Based on the contract I signed, I needed to push my upgrades to the limits; it gave them top data, which they adored.

So, if waiting a few minutes to let the crime get this far meant Paxton got their valuable information, per request, I'd wait-every time. Besides, I saw no weapon in Mr. Cigarette's pocket anyway. The cybernetic features behind my left eye helped me see the world with X-ray vision. The little fucker pretended to have a gun. He only pointed his finger at the older man. Sorry, Slim.

Pushing off the wall, I grabbed yesterday's sports highlights. I rolled it in my hands, and with each step forward, I patted it against my palm. The pack of little criminals paid me no attention.