Logan walked the streets of Electown. His eyes were overwhelmed by the flashing and blinking of magnificent lights depicting ads for a myriad of companies. He was in the center of the city, where all the action was. People flooded around Logan, who was the only one in the crowd that didn't seem to have an exact destination.

"The city..." Logan said to himself.

"The atmosphere really is quite astounding," remarked Armagohma, who looked out on the landscape from the PET that sat on Logan's belt.

Logan began to walk. He went with the flow of the people until he reached an intersection. Logan peered around, trying to decide where to go. Wanting to escape the massive crowds, he headed for a calmer part of the city. Logan left the mob of streetwalkers and headed the opposite direction. The landscape slowly became darker and darker as Logan went farther and farther away from the bright lights of the inner city. The illusion of daylight left, leaving Logan walking down an open sidewalk, with only a few people walking beside him.

Logan turned a corner. In front of him was a big neon sign that read "Club Technochocolate". The sign was flickering on and off, but not like a sign that was meant to do such a thing. It was obvious that the neon sign was old and broken.

Logan walked in. He pushed the double doors open and peered inside. It was relatively populated, with people taking up a little more that half the joint. Logan walked up to the bar and took a seat. He motioned to the bartender for a drink. The bartender slid a nice cold one Logan's way. The bartender stared at the sign that stood outside the glass windows of the place.

"That signs on its last legs," the bartender said.

No kidding, Logan thought to himself. As he finished his drink, he reached into his pocket for some cash. Oh shit, he thought. Logan had forgotten his wallet.The bartender, sensing Logan's nervousness, guessed.

"No money?"

"Umm..." Logan dragged on, "No."

"I'll tell you what," the bartender told Logan, his elbow resting on the counter, "You're a netbattler, right?"

Logan could tell that the bartender had obviously seen his PET. "Yes. Yes I am."

"You fix that sign, the drink is on me."

"Deal," Logan told the bartender.

Logan walked up to the neon sign and saw the port on the back of it. He jacked in.