"[b][color=0054a6]I want everything to be up and running upon my return ladies and gentlemen. Just because I will not be here for the evening does not mean that you're all free to slack off and do as you see fit. Do try to remember that the bonus to your pay hinges not only on my ability to acquire new technology, but your ability to keep things flowing smoothly![/color][/b]" Mao Raksmei called out as he gripped the railings in front of him. Below him people scurried about every which way on the factory floor, carrying all manner of machine parts to the spaces allotted to them. Mao had come a fair way since his arrival to the United States, and the fruits of his labor where fairly apparent. What had at one point been just him and a handful of workers operating out of an old foreclosed apartment complex had transformed into a fully staffed operation. Sure everything wasn't quite perfect -he and his crew now operated out of a cannery rather than a dilapidated apartment building-, but things were on their way to being there. 

After all, the owner of the cannery was more than willing to look the other way provided he earned a cut of the profits, so there was no risk there. A few shipping freights were always happy to make some extra cash, and same could be said of the police officers that patrolled the areas. Those that weren't bought with money were either won over with drugs or a shiny new prosthetic that a loved one desperately needed but couldn't afford, or they were dealt with in other, more unsavory ways. All that was necessary for Mao to do now was to keep his employees happy (or as happy as a counterfeiter could be anyway), ensure that papa Kong received his cut, and keep the flow of new tech going strong. As it stood, it was the last part that proved to be the most difficult. The big corporations were starting to come down hard on anyone that had an augmentation that so much as looked like one of their designs. Then again, Mao had sort of brought that one on himself after mass producing Mitsubishi's nightstalker line of prosthetics along with a few augments from Raven Microcybernetics. He had reasoned that the augments in question where all massively overpriced, the 6990eb line in particular, and that people would leap at the chance to get one cheaper.

Mao was pulled from his thoughts by a downward tug on his left jacket sleeve. The fixer blinked and looked down and into the face of a little asian girl, one of the children of the immigrant workers whom couldn't afford a baby sitter. Mao didn't particularly mind so long as they didn't interfere with work, in fact, they even boosted the moral of one of the workers, so rather than becoming annoyed Mao leaned over and smiled softly at the child, "[b][color=0054a6]How may I help you sweetheart?[/color][/b]". The girl gave a small, somewhat unsure smile before she asked in broken english whether or not there was something for her and the other children to do to help. Mao often gave tasks to some of the older children with the promise of a few dollars, so it wasn't too much of a surprise to be asked this. "[b][color=0054a6]Well aren't you sweet wanting to help out? As a matter of fact there is something you can do. There are some pencils, markers, and papers in the break room. Have your mommy or daddy show you were so you can make a picture for me to put up where everyone can see when I get back. If you do really good then i'll have a little ice cream party for you and the other kids.[/color][/b]". The girl's face split into a wide grin, she may not have completely understood everything said, but "pictures" and "ice cream" where pretty easily picked up. As the girl raced off to get her parents, Mao stood and straightened his charcoal grey suit before checking his watch, '[i][color=0054a6]Looks to be getting close to the start of the expo. Time to go.[/color][/i]' he mused before leaving the railing and descending a nearby flight of stairs. Mao didn't have to worry about anything going missing or things falling into chaos. He could leave everything in the hands of his unofficial second-in-command, Ponlok, a stocky and somewhat stalwart looking older man of few words whom had been among the first in Mao's employ.

Mao exited the cannery and began his trek towards the parking lot. Even when out of view of others he maintained the confident stride and somewhat graceful gait of a man of much higher status and upbringing than himself. The sun reflected brightly off of his Legacy Machine N°2 watch as he ran a hand though his braided hair. Mao smirked to himself as he pulled his keys from the internal pocket of his blazer and pressed the unlock button, his smirk widening as he saw the lights on his nissan 3Q flash in response. Even in the grim world of today luxuries could be found, and this vehicle was definitely one of them. One part of a trade for some high end augment forgeries, the truck was, to him, a perfect blend of attractive and efficient; being as at home at a high end car show as it was on an off road trail. Mao slipped into his vehicle and started it up, reveling in the sound of the engine roaring to life. The expo would be held approximately an hour and a half from the cannery if he took the quickest route, traffic not withstanding. Mao gripped the steering wheel with one hand and punched the directions to the NIGHT CITY TeXPO, and with that, he was off. Disappearing from the parking lot and down the road in a cloud of dust and kicked up gravel.