地下黑市.

A bustling underground black market hidden beneath a cyberpunk city, crammed into a converted subway station. Vendors hawk their wares from makeshift stalls built of scrap metal and illuminated by strings of mismatched colored lights. One stall displays rows of glowing cybernetic eyes floating in jars of blue liquid. Another offers racks of data chips and cracked holographic displays. The crowd is a motley mix of augmented humans, masked figures in hooded coats, and small cargo drones weaving overhead. Graffiti in multiple languages covers every concrete pillar. Thick cables snake across the ceiling, some sparking where insulation has worn through. The air is hazy with smoke from a noodle stand whose chef works behind a cloud of fragrant steam. A flickering sign overhead reads an indecipherable script in hot magenta neon.