Red Light.

You make your way across to the red light district. The transformation is rather abrupt, from shops and food places to strip joints and brothels, the streets thick with sex workers from across the gender spectrum.

You stand at a crossroads. On the left, is a clean and sterile looking building. A giant holographic display identifies it as Holo Dolls, boasts "the hottest companions the photon can represent!". On the right, is a darker, dingier place. The neon sign next to a rough-looking cyborg bouncer, in pink, purple and blue, calls it Club Glitter. You can hear pounding dance music echoing from within.

"Hey stud!" your attention is distracted from the building, as a woman approaches you. Her hair is chin-length, dirty blonde. She's wearing only fishnets, heels, and a skirt that barely reaches past her pelvis, under a clear plastic raincoat.

"I saw you lookin'" the streetwalker says, her tone cool, sultry. "And between the Robosexual Playhouse, and Club Frou-Frou, it looks like nothing's tickling your pickle."

"Oh really?" you respond. The blonde brings herself closer to you. You have to admit she smells great, like panicked passion, trying to finish and hide before your partner's boyfriend gets in.

"Until you saw me, that is." she simpers, cupping one of her bare tits. "See, these sex-joints, they're too... commercial. You want a quick and nasty City experience, don't you? You want a dirty blowjob in an alley from a certifiably clean girl, and you wanna pay her with a few twenties at most."

You have to admit, the blonde's sales pitch is pretty damn enticing...