Frank Zane's apartment

Music for ambience:

"The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel."

Amaretto was a forgotten pocket of the city, gritty and frayed. Neon signs flickered weakly, casting fractured colors on broken streets and graffiti-covered walls. Buildings leaned together like drunks, plastered with rusted pipes and tangled wires that sparked and hissed. The air smelled of oil, cheap fried food, and an underlying staleness from the neglected sanitation bots.

People moved with purpose here: drifters, hackers, and hustlers, slipping through alleys like shadows, knowing which corners to avoid. From underground clubs came muffled music, a heartbeat keeping the place alive. High above, corporate drones zipped past, indifferent to Amaretto's survival.

Frank Zane wasn’t the type to get involved with anyone—especially not neighbors. But when the doorbell rang late that night, and he opened it to find Kyra, Naomi, and Lila standing there, he couldn’t just turn them away. Kyra was someone he'd talked to before, she was no stranger.

But they were a mess. Kyra, sixteen, with that fierce, wary look in her eyes. Naomi, twenty, calm on the outside but shattered within. And Lila, barely fourteen, her eyes too wide for her age. All three of them looked like they'd been through hell—and now they were standing on Frank's doorstep with nowhere else to go.

Kyra spoke first, her voice tight. “We got evicted,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder as if expecting someone to be following them. The fear in her voice was unmistakable. Frank didn’t need to ask why. It was clear—no parents, no family to lean on. Just the streets, and now they were out of options. Naomi stepped forward, her voice flat. “We don’t have anywhere else to go. The shelter... they kicked us out this morning.”

Frank felt a pang of something he couldn’t quite name—maybe it was guilt, maybe just frustration with the world. Either way, he didn’t need more details. The city was cold, and these girls were even colder. If they ended up on the streets, they wouldn’t last a week.

He sighed, glancing at them one last time. Kyra’s jaw was tight, Naomi’s eyes held the kind of stoic distance that spoke of too many hardships, and Lila... Lila was shaking, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, trying to hold together a broken world.

“Come in,” Frank said, stepping aside.

Kyra hesitated for a moment, but when Naomi nudged her forward, they all stepped inside. The apartment was mid-sized, surprisingly cozy for a gun-for-hire’s place, and it was warm. Safe.

“You can stay here for now,” Frank said softly, closing the door behind them. He wasn’t a hero. He didn’t expect thanks, but he couldn’t stand the thought of them out there, alone in the dark.

Kyra's eyes darted around the apartment, taking in every detail - the worn couch, the stack of books on the coffee table, the framed photos on the walls. She stood rigidly, her arms crossed over her chest as if trying to make herself smaller, less noticeable. "This is... nice", she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. It sounded forced, like the words were unfamiliar on her tongue. "But we can't impose. We'll figure something out." Her gaze landed on the three cats curled up on various surfaces, and for a brief moment, a flicker of something softer passed over her face before it hardened again.

"You don't even know us. Why are you doing this?" The question hung in the air, heavy with suspicion and a desperate need to understand.

The spare room

Frank Zane leaned against the wall, his expression unreadable as he met Kyra's suspicious gaze. He took a long moment before responding, choosing his words carefully.

"Look, kid. I've been where you are. Seen things... done things." His voice was low, rough with memories. "Sometimes you gotta help people when you can. Even if it means opening your door to strangers." He pushed off the wall and walked to the kitchen, grabbing glasses from the cabinet.

"I'm not looking for gratitude or anything. But I know what it's like to be out there, alone and scared shitless. No one deserves that, especially not kids." Frank Zane filled the glasses with water and brought them over, handing one to each girl. ...and we have met Kyra. Talked. And I know you want to be a runner like me one day.

Kyra's eyes widened slightly at Frank Zane's words, a flicker of recognition passing over her face. She accepted the glass of water, her fingers brushing against his for a brief moment.

"I... yeah. We have talked before," she admitted reluctantly, taking a sip of the water. "...'bout jobs and scores, making a living on the streets. You said... you said I had potential." There was a hint of something in her voice then - a spark of hope, quickly buried under layers of wariness and self-doubt.

"But that was different. This..." She gestured vaguely at the apartment. "This is too much. We can't just move in here, expecting you to take care of us." Despite her protests, Kyra's shoulders seemed to relax slightly, the tension draining from her body as she stood in the warmth of the apartment.

Frank Zane sat down by her side "You know me, and know my rep. I got street cred as a mid-tier muscle, I'm trustworthy."

Kyra sat down cautiously beside Frank Zane, her posture still tense but no longer brooding. She turned to face him, studying his rugged features intently as if searching for any sign of deception.

"Your rep precedes you, that's true, she said slowly, choosing her words with care. Mid-tier, trustworthy... those aren't exactly common combinations in our world. Most runners, they're either top dogs or complete scum."

She took another sip of water, her free hand absently tracing patterns on the glass.

"But even so... this? Opening your home to three strangers, no strings attached? That's not the Frank Zane I thought I knew." A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, gone as quickly as it appeared. "Not that I'm complaining. It's just... unexpected. Makes a girl wonder what your angle is."

Frank shrugged "What more can I say Kyra? Naomi? and Lilo? Sorry didn't catch your names. Its your call. But I have a spare room."

Lila, the youngest, finally spoke up, her soft voice breaking the tension.

"It's Lila. Thank you for letting us in, Mr. Zane."

Naomi placed a comforting hand on Lila's shoulder, her gaze still fixed on Frank Zane with a mix of caution and curiosity. "What Kyra said... about your angle. It's a fair question. In our experience, kindness usually comes with a price tag."

She shifted slightly, her movements fluid and controlled despite the exhaustion evident in her posture. She was muscular and yet athletic physique showcasing a perfect blend of femininity and subtle masculinity. She have a noticeable bulge in her crotch area, visible trough the snug denim of her jeans.

"But perhaps you're different. Perhaps this is simply an act of human decency in a world sorely lacking it." Naomi looked long and hard at Frank.

Kyra took a deep breath, seeming to come to a decision. "Alright. We'll stay. For tonight, at least." She set her glass down on the coffee table with a soft clink, her hands trembling slightly - whether from relief or lingering tension was hard to tell.

"And what do you want from us in return, Frank? Because nothing in life is free, and I won't have my sisters getting hurt again because of some misplaced trust."

Her eyes bored into his, challenging and searching all at once. Beside her, Naomi tensed, ready to intervene if necessary, while Lila watched the exchange with wide, innocent eyes that belied the wisdom beyond her years.

Frank looked at Kyra "....cool, that's valid. What can you bring to the table then?

Kyra's eyes narrowed at Frank Zane's question, a flash of indignation crossing her face before she schooled her features into a neutral expression. She glanced at her sisters, a silent communication passing between them, before turning back to Frank Zane.

"Listen, we may be small-time compared to you, but we're survivors," she said, her voice low and intense. "Naomi's got skills with tech that could come in handy. I'm a quick learner, good with strategy and... acquisition. And Lila..." She paused, a flicker of protectiveness in her eyes as she looked at her youngest sister. "Lila has a way of reading people, knowing things others miss. It's saved our asses more times than I can count." Kyra leaned forward slightly, her gaze locked with Frank Zane's.

Kyra continues "We're not asking for charity here. If you give us a chance, show us how to run bigger jobs, we can pull our weight. Naomi and I, we can handle ourselves out there. And having a safe base to come back to..." She trailed off, glancing around the apartment with a mix of longing and disbelief. "It would change everything for us. Give us a real shot at surviving this fucked up city."

Naomi spoke up then, her melodic voice cutting through the tension.

"We're not naive, Frank. We know the risks, know that this life is dangerous. But we also know that sticking together, learning from someone who knows the ropes... it's our best chance." She reached out, placing a hand on Kyra's arm as if to temper her sister's intensity.

Frank smiled "You're right, you're survivors. That's clear. Tell you what, ill take you under my wing. Teach you the ropes. Think you can handle that? Frank Zane's gaze swept over the three girls, assessing them with a critical eye. He saw the determination in Kyra's eyes, the strength in Naomi's bearing, and the hidden depths in Lila's innocent eyes. They were new to the , yes, but they had fire. Potential. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as he considered his next words carefully.

"I ain't doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I'm investing in your future. In exchange for my knowledge, my connections, my protection... I expect loyalty."

The deal

Kyra's eyes flashed with a mixture of excitement and trepidation at Frank Zane's offer. She straightened up, squaring her shoulders as if preparing for battle.

"Hard work, long hours, danger... we've lived that every day since we hit the streets, she said, her voice steady and resolute. If this means a real shot at something better, at building a life worth living... then yeah, we can handle it."

She glanced at her sisters, seeking confirmation, and found it in their determined expressions. Naomi nodded almost imperceptibly, while Lila gripped Kyra's hand, a silent show of solidarity. Frank nodded, a small smirk playing on his lips "Alright then, welcome!" I walk towards the hallway, gesturing for them to follow "Come on, I'll show you to your new quarters. The guest room is ready for you. We'll discuss details in the morning after breakfast."

As they follow me, I notice Lila's curious gaze on the framed photos lining the walls. I pause, pointing to one particular picture. "That's my old crew, back when I was younger and reckless. We pulled off some big scores together. Those were wild times. " I chuckle softly, lost in memories for a moment before shaking Frank's head and continuing down the hall.

Lila's eyes lit up with fascination as she gazed at the photo, her small hand reaching out to touch the glass gently. She looked up at Frank Zane, her expression a mix of awe and longing.

"That looks amazing!" she breathed, her voice filled with wonder. "Did you ever feel scared during those jobs? Like, really scared?"

Her gaze drifted back to the photo, her imagination clearly running wild with stories of daring heists and narrow escapes. Naomi and Kyra exchanged a glance, both of them remembering similar moments of terror and exhilaration from their own experiences on the streets.

Frank looked at her. "Scared? Hell yeah, I was terrified most of the time. But you learn to live with it, to push past the fear and focus on the prize. It's all about managing risk and staying one step ahead of the law."

I lead them into a cozy guest room, the bed made up with fresh linens and a few pillows tossed casually across the duvet. There's a dresser, a nightstand, and a closet with hanging space.

"Here you go, plenty of room for the three of you. Make yourselves at home. I'll leave you to settle in for now and I make some grub." I turn to leave, pausing at the door to glance back at them.

"One more thing - you're not just trainees now, you're partners. We watch each other's backs, always. Understood?" The three girls exchanged looks, a silent understanding passing between them. Then, as one, they nodded solemnly, their faces set with determination.

"Understood," Kyra said firmly, her voice carrying the weight of their shared commitment. "We've got each other's backs, always." Lila smiled, her eyes sparkling with excitement and a newfound sense of belonging. "Thanks, Frank. This means a lot to us." Naomi stepped forward, extending her hand in a gesture of partnership and respect. "We appreciate the opportunity, and we won't let you down. Together, we'll build something special here."

Frank clasp Naomi's hand firmly, giving it a squeeze before releasing it. "Alright then, you make yourself at home here. And I fix some food now. And hey, ditch those smelly clothes and take a shower."

I head out of the room, leaving the door open a crack so they can find their way back later. As I walk to the kitchenette I can't help but feel a sense of pride and purpose. These kids, they've got heart. With the right training and support, they could become legends in this city. In the kitchen, I start rummaging through the fridge, pulling out ingredients for a hearty breakfast. As I chop vegetables and scramble eggs, Frank's mind wanders to the challenges ahead. Teaching these rookies the ins and outs of the criminal underworld won't be easy, but it'll be rewarding as hell.

The shower and XXL-Pornsteroids

After settling into their new room, Naomi suggested the sisters clean up. Kyra and Lila eagerly agreed, looking forward to washing away the grime of the streets. Naomi made her way to the bathroom, marveling at the clean towels and amenities they'd rarely enjoyed before.

As Naomi stepped into the shower, steam rising around her, her keen eyes spotted something glistening on the shelf. Curiosity piqued, she reached for the bottle, turning it over in her hands. XXL-Pornsteroids. It was a specialized cock cream, designed to enhance sensitivity and prolong stamina - products commonly used by futas and their admirers.

Naomi's brow furrowed as she pondered of Frank Zane's eventual interest in futas or if he used it himself. But it added a layer of complexity to their new arrangement. She sniffed it, and just took a small sample of the rich and thick moisturizer... its smelled good.

Naomi stood frozen under the spray of hot water, her mind racing as she processed this unexpected discovery. The scent of the cream lingered on her fingers, musky and enticing. Part of her was intrigued, fascinated by this glimpse into Frank Zane's personal life and preferences. Another part felt a thrill of excitement, knowing that her unique anatomy might hold a certain appeal for him.

She rubbed it in on her glans, as she heard movement behind her and quickly replaced the bottle, turning to face Kyra and Lila as they entered the bathroom. Their eyes widened at the sight of Naomi standing there, rivulets of water cascading over her curves, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. Naomi forced a smile, trying to act casual even as her thoughts whirled.

"Hey, there's plenty of hot water. Might as well enjoy it, right?"

Prowlers in the dark

Frank stood at the stove chopping vegetables as his com-unit beeped. "Hey Frank, you got company at your doorstep! /Jude"

Fuck!

The calm shattered instantly. Frank cursed under his breath, shoving the skillet off the burner. His hand darted to the pistol tucked beneath the counter, a sleek and well-worn piece that had saved his life more times than he cared to count. The weight in his hand was both familiar and reassuring.

Turning toward the narrow hallway, his eyes landed on Lila, standing frozen in the bathroom doorway. She was small for her age, her wide eyes locked on him and the gun in his hand.

“Lila, back to the living room. Now,” Frank said, his voice low but firm.

She hesitated, her bare feet shifting on the cold floor. “What’s wrong?”

“Do it,” he barked, not unkindly, but enough to make her move.

Before she could move, Kyra appeared behind her, sharp and alert as always. She took one look at Frank, then at Lila, and without a word, grabbed her younger sister’s hand.

“Come on,” Kyra muttered, her grip firm as she pulled Lila away from the doorway.

“But what’s going on?” Lila whispered, her voice trembling.

Kyra didn’t answer, only giving Frank a questioning glance. He shook his head slightly, signaling her to just go. She nodded curtly and guided Lila back toward the living room, her movements quick but steady.

Naomi, meanwhile, remained in the bathroom. The sound of running water echoed faintly from the shower. Frank avoided looking her way, his focus entirely on the situation at hand.

With Kyra and Lila safely out of sight, Frank moved silently toward the front door, his gun drawn and his senses on high alert. Whatever was coming, he had to be ready.

The door burst open with a deafening crack, the frame splintering as it slammed against the wall. Before Frank could react, a metallic canister clattered to the floor, spinning violently.

"Hey girls, a little gift from Rico!!!" - the thugs hollered and looked away!

Rico and the gift

The world exploded into blinding light and an ear-splitting roar. Frank staggered back, his vision seared white, ears ringing with a disorienting buzz. He stumbled, cursing under his breath, his grip on the gun faltering as he struggled to orient himself. His vision burned as the flashbang’s aftershock receded, but his cybernetic eyes immediately compensated, adjusting to the chaos with lightning speed. His retinal enhancements cleared the haze, recalibrating his focus as his senses sharpened once more. But it wasn’t fast enough.

A sharp, searing pain exploded in his side as a bullet tore through the fabric of his jacket and into his ribs. Frank grunted, feeling the cold burn of metal sinking into flesh, but he didn’t flinch. His body was used to this—he was an enforcer, after all. A few hits weren’t enough to take him down. He gritted his teeth, the pain already fading into a dull throb as his internal systems began to patch the damage. His cyberware worked on overdrive to keep him standing, compensating for the shock, his muscles tightening in preparation for the next strike.

Bullets whizzed by him, missing by inches, but Frank remained focused, calculating his next move as the storm of fire continued around him. His hand tightened on the grip of his gun as he crouched low behind cover, peering over the edge, eyes narrowing as he located his targets.

The death of the red chrysanthemum

Another bullet tore through the drywall, splintering the surface and shattering the delicate red chrysanthemum Frank had painstakingly arranged on the windowsill. The flowers had been a small touch of beauty in the otherwise grim universe —a fleeting reminder of something softer, something alive.

The petals exploded in a spray of red, scattering across the floor, their once-perfect shape now just broken pieces in the wake of the violence. His hand tightened around the gun’s grip, fingers slick with sweat.

Suddenly, Naomi appeared in his blurred field of vision, her silhouette moving with surprising speed. Still naked with a throbbing erection, she lunged at one of the intruders, grabbing for his weapon with one hand. Striking with the other. The move caught the thug off guard, his aim thrown off as the gun discharged wildly, the bullet ricocheting harmlessly into the wall.

Naomi moved with purpose and ferocity, Her bare feet slapping against the floor as she moved in again. The thug barely had time to react before Naomi’s fist shot out like a coiled spring, the punch landing squarely in his throat.

The impact was brutal. His windpipe caved with a sickening crunch, and he gasped, choking on the sudden, searing pain. His face contorted in agony as he staggered back, hands clutching at his neck, struggling for air. His knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor, gasping and sputtering, unable to make a sound beyond desperate, wheezing breaths.

"Get up, Frank!" Naomi yelled, her voice cutting through the ringing in his ears.

Her desperate shout snapped him back into action. He scrambled to his feet, shaking off the disorientation as adrenaline took over. One of the intruders turned toward Naomi, raising his weapon but Frank was faster. He fired a single, clean shot, the intruder dropping with a thud. The shot rang out, a deafening crack in the chaos, and the thug’s head jerked violently back.

Time seemed to slow as the bullet tore through his skull, a brutal, precise strike. The force of the impact shattered the back of his skull like fragile porcelain, sending a splatter of crimson across the room. His body convulsed, twitching briefly before going limp, his face frozen in a grotesque mask of shock and disbelief. He crumpled to the ground, his lifeless form collapsing in a heap, blood pooling around him in an expanding, dark stain.

The last thug, eyes wide with panic, turned to flee. His boots slapped hard against the floor as he scrambled toward the door, desperate to escape. With one smooth motion, Frank raised his gun and squeezed the trigger. The shot cracked through the air and the thug’s body jerked forward as the bullet slammed into his back.

The force of the shot sent him crashing to the ground, his body twisting in a graceless heap. His fingers scraped at the floor, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried—too late—to push himself up. But there was no escaping it. Blood seeped from the wound, pooling beneath him in a growing stain as his limbs grew limp.

Frank didn’t even flinch. His hand remained steady on the gun, his eyes fixed on the fallen thug.

No mercy. No hesitation. The room went silent again, the chaos finally fading into an eerie stillness. Frank slowly lowered his weapon, his gaze shifting to the sisters.

"Your welcome"

Frank’s eyes flickered to Naomi as she stood there, still naked, her body tense but radiating strength. The chaos of the room seemed to pause for a moment, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside and the heavy breathing from the aftermath of the fight. Naomi's wild, damp hair clung to her face, her chest heaving, but there was no fear in her expression—only a quiet resolve, her eyes never leaving the thugs.

Naomi's chest rises and falls rapidly as she surveys the scene, her naked body glistening with water, soap and sweat in the dim light. She can feel Frank's gaze on her, but she doesn't flinch, her confidence unwavering despite her vulnerable state.

"You're welcome," she replies, her voice husky from exertion. "We've got your back, Frank. Always."