The Bentley Intergalactic W-16 speed through the streets, its 3,600 horsepower hauling ass, its pilot weaved through traffic with computer like precision, because it was a computer, a top of the line AutoDrive Elite with enough sensory for a NASA mission to a new galaxy, and enough CPU power to calculate all the data that streamed into its data ports.
In an instant, the massive black car swung into a side street disappearing from the crowds of the busy market in downtown Tokyo. Cruising away from the neon glow of the streets, the car pulled into a industrial garage, a space left empty for the hulking beast to wait. The wetness that remained on the car, began evaporating as tiny nano bots began washing and polishing the car, keeping it in immaculate condition, while it sat idle.
The door swung up automatically and from the back seat emerged a single man. Carrying an Ultra Laser Umbrella, he walked out of the garage the car humming as it polished, into the dark rain outside in the alley. A cloud of mist covered the man, as his umbrella tracked every raindrop that would make contact with the man and instantly evaporated them before they could get he man wet.
The cloud of vapor surrounded him, in a blinding fog of ultra cool technology, his next gen umbrella obscured his vision of the dark alley, his optics system automatically adapting integrating other, clearer, visual spectrum's, IR data filtering through, showing 3rd story a 150meteres away, on a rusting fire escape lays a junky, jacked in, tuned out of the reality his body rotted in, living in cyberspace, curled up in a sleeping bag, a carboard box providing an overhang to keep the cyberhead sheilded from the rain, the data pouring through his wireless a tangled mess or wires leaching power from who knows where sat by his feat.
No one else in the alley, the pink neon signed blurred by rain set the destination. The man quickly began walking around the puddles, a trail of vapor following him. Suddenly the high pitched noise of a engine registered on the HUD, The AI identified it as a single 600cc dirt bike, ripping through the water, a rooster tail spraying intermittently as the bike dash between puddles at 250km/h. To far to the club to reach before the bike was upon him, he could only keep moving until he could ambush his attacker, feinting obliviousness to the impending his attack, he hope to catch his attacker by surprise, his Glock's firing silently at 600 rounds per minute.
Now he said to himself, as he spun around and simultaneously pulling out his two plastic pistols the deleted uranium 10mm rounds would easily rip through the white helmet shooting towards him, a large round target.
The sleeping bag drifted down three stories settling in a wet pile, its plaid pattern illuminated by the gunfire above. Three rounds, a perfect burst of accurate munition from a high powered rifle, the previously jacked in junky peering down the sight, the digital zoomed scope recorded the killshot in high def, the head disappearing in a cloud of pink vapor the umbrella seemingly unaffected by the massive amount of blood which it efficiently vaporized in a cloud of smoke, the body collapsing completely dry onto its knees, then the chest crashing into a puddle the umbrella shooting sparks into the water as it was submerged, apparently its not waterproof.
The rider slowed and stopped at the body, seeing dollars. The helmet was pulled off to let a wave of blond hair to fall out, the rider spitting on the graffiti wall.
The shooter climbed down the fire escape, he shouted "Don't spit. DNA!"
A blast from an Anti-Forensics spray cured that and he got on the bike and they melted into the glow of traffic, leaving the body in the puddle.