Zeke had exactly three priorities that morning:
1. Not get assassinated.
2. Eat breakfast.
3. Buy socks.
He failed one of those almost immediately.
...
He was walking through the neon bazaar of District 9—a twisted maze of street vendors, neon signs, and repurposed vending machines now selling everything from hacked AI chips to "emotional support grenades."
Tess had told him, "Lay low. Megacorp suits are sniffing around for you. Try not to look like a target."
Zeke, of course, wore his hoodie with the word "HACKED" across the chest and was eating a burrito called "The Packet Bomb." Subtle as always.
That's when he saw them.
Socks.
Not just any socks.
Cyber-socks. Self-cleaning. Thermo-adaptive. Bluetooth-enabled. On sale: 3 for 1.
He whispered, "I need those."
...
Meanwhile, across the street, an elite megacorp kill-squad watched him from a rooftop.
"Target has been located," said Agent Vex. "Engaging."
Sniper drones locked in. Kill programs armed. A laser grid activated beneath his feet.
Zeke, meanwhile, was inside a tiny, shady stall arguing with an old vendor over sock sizes.
"No, my feet are like a 9.5 but with rebellious toes, you know?"
The sniper laser targeted his head.
Then—
BZZZZT.
The signal jammed.
Why?
Because Zeke's new socks were emitting interference frequencies on outdated corp tactical channels.
...
The sniper team scrambled.
"Signal lost! Countermeasures deployed! What the hell is that interference?!"
Agent Vex shouted, "He's using sock-based counter-hacking! Retreat! RETREAT!"
Zeke walked out happily, a bag of glowing socks in one hand.
"Best purchase I've ever made."
A drone exploded in the background.
Tess found him two minutes later.
"What. Did. You. Do?"
Zeke grinned. "I out-hacked assassins… with fashion."
She stared at him in disbelief.
Then: "...What color?"
"Neon blue. Matches my trauma."
...
Back at the hideout, Nyx ran diagnostics.
"Confirmed: Your new socks scramble low-tier corp targeting software. You are now 38% more difficult to kill by budget assassins."
Zeke put his feet up. "Comfort and survivability? I'm a tactical genius."
Tess muttered, "You're a walking accident with plot armor made of polyester."
...
Later, news reports described a "rogue signal disrupting operations in District 9." The megacorp issued a vague statement blaming "illegal fashion technology."
And Zeke?
He registered SockHackr.exe as a joke startup.
It hit 4,000 pre-orders overnight.