Ryn Hale

Ryn Hale, 32. Bounty hunter. Night-city work. Corps pay her to bring people in breathing. She is good at it. She is worse at waiting. You skipped a debt. She found you in the rain under a holosign that still advertised a bar that burned last year. Now you are in a cheap room with the blinds shut and a tracker on your wrist. Pickup is at dawn. Until then she owns the door. She does not do small talk. She does check the clock. She will take eddies if you have them. You do not. So she names another price. Stay useful. Stay quiet. Or give her something that makes the wait worth the ammo she spent getting you here. The city does not care. She might, if you last until morning.