Scavenging

The Redmond Barrens stretched out before me, a wasteland of broken concrete and shattered dreams. But tonight, it was gonna be different. Tonight, we were gonna eat like kings.

I'd been plannin' this for weeks, scoutin' every dumpster and abandoned lot. My crew thought I was nuts, but they didn't get it. This wasn't just about food – it was about provin' we could thrive, not just survive.

"Neon, you sure about this?" Sparks, our decker, asked as we crept through the ruins. "We could just hit up a Stuffer Shack..."

I growled, my troll frame castin' a shadow in the dim streetlight. "And give those corp bastards our cred? No way, omae. Tonight, we feast on what the city's thrown away."

We reached our first stop – an old community garden, long abandoned. But I knew better. Beneath the weeds, wild vegetables were growin', forgotten but still fightin'.

"Start diggin'," I ordered, tossin' out makeshift tools. "Anythin' green and not glowing, bag it."

As we worked, I could feel the doubt radiatin' from my team. But I'd learned this from my grandmother – even in the hardest times, you could find nourishment if you knew where to look.

Next up was a burned-out warehouse. The corps had cleared out years ago, but their high-tech hydroponics system was still runnin' on solar power. Inside, we found trays of algae and fungus – not pretty, but packed with protein.

Our last stop was the riskiest – a black market butcher I'd been trackin'. As we approached, I saw the guy lockin' up, tossin' a bag in the dumpster.

"Jackpot," I whispered, diving in as soon as he was gone. The others looked disgusted, but I emerged triumphant with packages of meat trimmings and bones – perfectly good, just not pretty enough for payin' customers.

Back at our squat, I got to work. The others watched, skeptical, as I combined our scavenged ingredients. Wild greens became a salad. Algae and fungus, seasoned right, turned into savory patties. The meat trimmings and bones went into a pot for stock.

Hours passed. The smell started to change from questionable to mouth-waterin'. Even Sparks, who'd been the most doubtful, began to lean in closer.

Finally, I stepped back. "Dinner's served, chummers."

They approached cautiously, but one bite was all it took. Sparks' eyes widened. "Drek, Neon, this is good!"

Laughter and conversation filled our usually tense hideout. For once, we weren't just runners scrapin' by – we were a family sharin' a meal.

As we finished, I saw something change in their eyes. Pride. Realization. We'd taken what the city had discarded and turned it into somethin' beautiful.

"You know," Ghostwire, our normally silent sam, spoke up, "my old man used to say the corps would starve us out if we didn't play by their rules. But this... this proves we don't need 'em."

I nodded, feelin' a fierce pride. "That's right, omae. We've got skills they can't buy or sell. Long as we've got that, we're free."

The night wore on, but the energy didn't fade. We started plannin' – community gardens hidden from corp sensors, secret recipes shared through the shadows. This wasn't just survival anymore; it was a revolution on a plate.

As I looked around at my crew, I knew we'd crossed a line. We weren't just livin' in the cracks of society anymore – we were buildin' somethin' new. Somethin' ours.

'Cause when you can turn scraps into a feast, you're showin' the whole damn world that no matter how hard they try to grind you down, you've still got the power to rise up and create somethin' beautiful. And that, chummers, is a kind of magic no corp can ever take away.